


In Good Company

by Aalligade



Category: Titanfall (Video Games)
Genre: Also yes I made up a name for Viper I’m sorry, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Five minutes of dialogue so my viper might not match yours, M/M, Mutual Pining, Out of Character, Slow Burn, Sorry but Viper has like, This wouldn’t happen if both of these characters weren’t stupid, Viper absolutely died but let me have my fun, questionable science, this story is an idiot plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-01-23 03:40:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 20,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21313573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aalligade/pseuds/Aalligade
Summary: “Remember what you said to me the first time we met?” Cooper hums. Vaguely— Probably some death threat. Cooper doesn’t know that, though. Viper is dead. He’ll never fly again.(Used to be “Sorry I Faked My Own Death and Tried to Kill You”)
Relationships: Jack Cooper/Viper
Comments: 9
Kudos: 57





	1. Shed Thy Skin and Start Anew

**Author's Note:**

> So I’ve had this idea for like... a year now. And I’ve only now summoned the courage to actually write it. Titanfall 2 is my favorite game and so I hope that this story does it justice :)

I don’t really believe in hell, but I’ve always figured that’s where I’ll go when I die.  
There’s no place in heaven for people like me. Men who kill for money. I had made peace with my fate as soon as I had joined the Apex Predators.

So when I was staring down the rifleman I was meant to kill, I thought that would be the end of it. The world would be better off without Viper— I had no doubts about that.  
Being shot hurts. Like, a lot. But the pain of being shot by a Spitfire— A Spitfire, for Godssake. Couldn’t he have killed me with a more respectable gun? I’d take a stupid G2 over a Spitfire— paled in comparison to the broken link. I had heard about pilots who outlived their titans, and the result was never pretty. The static fuzz at the back of my head hurt the most.

Waking up surrounded by the burning wreckage of the Draconis was not what I expected hell to be like. More lava and fire, fewer trees. It had taken me two days to convince myself that I wasn’t actually dead— That yes, I was taken down by some Militia hotshot and his stupid Vanguard.  
By that point, I knew that no one was looking for me. I was no longer on the top of the food chain. Blisk wouldn’t want me to come back.

And so I didn’t go back. Not to the Apex Predators, at least. I had no business with them. Viper was dead. Good riddance. Dominic Taylor, the stupid kid who thought that pilot training was the only option, is all that’s left. You get what you get and you don’t get upset— Or however that shit goes. I’m past the point of caring.

Angel City was about the only place I figured I could go to. The locals keep their mouths shut as long as they have money in their pockets. An ex-mercenary like me would fit right in.  
So I did my best to fit in. I lived off of what money I still had from past jobs, (Getting a Northstar to fly is expensive. Most of my money went to keeping her airborne) and found whatever jobs people would give me. The helmet had its perks— My face wasn’t widely-known like Blisk’s. I lived my boring, uneventful life one day at a time.

Until the Milita came in and ruined everything, as they often do. Ugh. Maybe I’m being too harsh on them. Nothing was actually destroyed, and their settlement on the planet was largely peaceful.  
And then that bastard showed up.  
I had seen the wanted posters, and being able to put a face to Viper’s killer brought a little bit of comfort. Didn’t help that he was handsome and nice and— Ugh, shut up Dominic.


	2. Know the Slow Effect of Venom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story isn’t really... stuck to the lore, if that makes sense. There’s going to be some retcons and such

My current hobby is sitting on the floor of my apartment, in the dark, staring at my old helmet. I’m pretty sure it’s driving me insane. I talk to it, sometimes. As if it’s Viper sitting across from me— cold and silent as always. I curse at him for ruining my life. He never responds.  
When the silence becomes too my to handle, I venture out into the world. And by “world” I mean the shitty bar a block away from my shitty apartment. It’s cheap and people mind their own business. Mostly.

There’s some guy sitting on the other side of the bar. He keeps looking at me, and pretending to be very interested in his drink when I try to meet his gaze. There’s always the occasional oddball in places like this, but he sticks out in my mind as being different from the others. He looks to clean to be here— too naïve to be drinking in a place like this. He looks kind of familiar, actually. I think—  
“Aren’t you that Militia pilot?” I speak up. He jolts in surprise— He probably wasn’t expecting me to say anything. The shock on his face tells me all I need to know. Only a Militia pilot would be so stupid as to think they’re unrecognizable. And the number of wanted posters with this guy’s face on them is obscene. I think Angel City’s trying to overcompensate for something.

“Uh,” He stumbles, sitting up on his stool. “No?” And in a moment of unparalleled providence, the bar’s T.V. begins to play the news.

“The search for Milita war criminals Saragh Briggs and Jack Cooper are still ongoing,” Mugshots of the two in question are brought up. “If you have any information, please call the provided number.”

My gaze slides from the screen to the man’s face. “You were saying?” I chuckle lowly. I didn’t know it was possible for someone to turn so red. He’s probably embarrassed that his foolproof plan was thwarted by some random, dirty vagabond. Plans never end up quite the way you’d like them. Might as well teach him now.

“That’s— not me,” He stands up quickly, fumbling as the barstool topples over. “Uh, bye.” And with that, Militia hero Jack Cooper leaves the bar. The embarrassment was just too much, I guess.


	3. A Serpent Knows a Snake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viper has a job lol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like being a mechanic would work well for an ex-pilot, and I’ve had the idea of Viper owning a motorcycle for a while.

Going to work is the highlight of my day. God, my life is sad. I didn’t imagine my future would involve fixing cars, but here I am. Working with vehicles is only marginally similar to working with titans— But there’s enough crossover for me to get the job done.

There are plenty of car repair shops in Angel City. For what reason, I have no idea. Cars are kinda out of fashion, right now.  
That didn’t stop me from buying a motorcycle, though. I named her Harpy— After my Northstar. I like to think that it honors her, somehow.

There are two kinds of people who still own cars: Old farts who don’t know how to let go of the past, and hipsters who think older tech is better. I’m not sure which category I fall under.  
So when the front door opens and a simulacrum walks in, I’m understandably taken aback. A Militia pilot— The colors are unmistakable— has walked into an auto shop. It feels like the start of a bad joke. 

“Hey, I dropped my car off on Saturday,” I don’t work on the weekend— Probably why I don’t recognize the pilot. “That Mila chick said it would be done by now?” Mila— Right, she takes over my shift when I’m not around. She had called me on Saturday, (Probably in order to gossip about the newest customer.) I had ignored the call in favor of sleeping past noon. 

“Yeah,” I push myself out of the desk chair, leading the pilot to the garage. “I don’t know how it’s still running, though. Is it pre-war?” 

The pilot hums in affirmation— A strange, mechanical sound. “Got it shipped her from Earth,” Now that’s a surprise. Getting something that large shipped is expensive— From Earth, even more so. I didn’t think the Militia payed that well. Considering the fact that they’re a simulacrum, I don’t think it’s their only job. There’s a lot of shady business going on in pilot circles. I should know, I was practically the poster child for illegal titan modifications.

“Damn, looks great!” They seem thoroughly impressed as I lead them to their car. “I swear, Angel City’s the only place I can trust to get the job done right.”  
I chuckle at that. So much energy over a car.  
They hand over their payment and leave. The silence already feels deafening. Oh well. A day in the real world beats a day of talking to Viper.


	4. It’s Only Poisonous if You Eat It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another chance encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Viper was himbo supreme until Jack killed him and took the title for himself

He’s back. Sitting on the same bar as last time, Jack Cooper has returned. I’m almost impressed. Almost. He’s still looking at me— He’s got some nerve.  
“Is this going to be a repeat of last time?” I glance over at him. Cooper seems to be less surprised this time— Like he’s been expecting me to start a conversation. He’s learned well from our last encounter. Always expect the unexpected, or some other bullshit like that. 

“I guess there’s no point in pretending,” He sighs, shooting a sheepish smile in my direction. “Talk about horrible timing, huh? Jack Cooper, at your service.” He holds a hand out towards me, as if we aren’t sitting in completely opposite sides of the bar. He must recognize this, as after a moment of silent staring, his hand returns to his lap. 

“Dominic Taylor. You’re to recognizable, anyways. Any idiot with half a brain would remember what you look like. And your reaction told me, more than anything.” He rolls his eyes and looks away.

“God, thanks for reminding me,” Cooper’s putting in a show of being annoyed, but I can spot the smile in his eyes. Wait, what?

“No problem,” I lean against the bar, watching him carefully. Looking at him now, he almost looks like he’s in his element. Like he’s used to places like this. How interesting. “Doesn’t help that everyone in the city knows what you look like. They’ve put up so many of those wanted posters— I think they just enjoy looking at your face.”

An exaggerated sigh from Cooper. “Tell me about it. You’d think they’d take those down, after the whole ‘alliance’ thing they’ve got going on with us,”  
Cooper stands up and moves to a stool closer to my own. “So that we’re not yelling across the bar at each other.” He clarifies with a smile.

I shrug, pulling my own drink closer. “If you want,”  
I can see his face better now— Can see the small scars crisscrossing his skin. It annoys me to admit that he’s handsome, despite the past wounds. So unlike Dominic Taylor, who has an ugly face marred by old wounds that never healed correctly.

“And I think there’s a guy in one of the booths who wants to kill me,” Cooper adds quietly. I glance back and make eye contact with a man who looks like he would enjoy nothing more than to leave my dead body in a dumpster. I shiver, turning back.

“I see what you mean,” I mutter. Cooper chuckles at that. “But I bet a guy like you has a lot of enemies. And that price on your head—“ I whistle, shaking my head. “You’re going to have to watch your back, kid.”

“Don’t remind me,” He wipes a hand over his face. “I’ve had to fend off, like... three different assassination attempts this week.” I know what that feels like. I kept a running list of them. I’m pretty sure at least one of them had been sent by Kane— God, I hated that bastard. I’m glad he’s dead. I guess I have the man sitting across from me to thank for that.

“Jesus, really?” I lean back, playing up my surprise. No one’s ever tried to kill Dominic Taylor— He’s not important enough to warrant a bounty. “Sounds exhausting.”  
A shrug is the only reply I get. We talk for a while, before Cooper pays for his drink and leaves. He says something about having to get up early tomorrow.


	5. The Cost of Killing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Viper is probably a blond. It explains his stupidity

— 3 years ago —

Blisk has gathered us for some sort of announcement. Slone and I are the only ones left. The others are all dead— Killed by a class 3 Militia Rifleman. What a joke.  
He doesn’t call us together very often. I guess he trusts that we all keep the best interests of the Apex Predators in mind. Oh, who am I kidding. Blisk doesn’t trust any of us. There aren’t a lot of meetings because they’re the perfect time to strike. He’s paranoid, but he’s not stupid.

I adjust my gear, (The harnesses chafe my thighs. I fucking hate them) and glance over at Slone. The same open hostility as always. Don’t know what I was expecting.

Blisk is pacing back and forward in the small room. He’s pissed— That’s never good.   
“How the hell has a goddamn Rifleman out-piloted some of my best men?!” I figure he doesn’t want me to answer that, so I keep my mouth shut.  
“He’s mowed down three of us, and the two of you are just sitting here with your thumbs up your asses!” The Ark— Right. The IMC have hired us, yet again, to do their dirty work. 

“It’s the Vanguard, sir,” Slone speaks up. “If it was any other titan, he’d be dead by—“

“I don’t care what kind of titan it is!” Blisk is furious now. I’m almost surprised that there isn’t smoke pouring out of his ears. “He’s a goddamn Rifleman! He has no idea how to pilot a titan!” That’s funny. He clearly knows more than Ash and Richter. Any idiot could kill Kane, though. He was probably so drugged up that he couldn’t tell right from left.  
Blisk pulls in a deep breath, then sighs. “So. What’s going to happen, is that you—“ He points are me, moving closer. “Are going to keep him from getting any closer to the Ark,” He’s towering over me, now. I’m not short, but I feel small around him. “You’re going to kill that son of a bitch.”

Sure. Sounds easy enough.


	6. News From The Frontier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A message

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Jack in this chapter. :(.

I sit alone in my dark bedroom. The blinds are down and Viper’s helmet blocks out any ambient noise. This is another one of my hobbies— eavesdropping.  
The buzz of the broken link is drowned out by the static of the helmet switching through frequencies.

I do this when there’s nothing else to do. When the silence becomes unbearable and the outside world feels too far away. When I can’t stand the thought of seeing another person.  
This little hobby has lead to some... interesting discoveries. It’s amazing what people will talk about on open frequencies.

The scanning stops as it lands on a line in use.  
“They will try to stop us,” Oh, it’s the Militia’s favorite spokesperson— Sarah Briggs herself. I never understood why the IMC never stopped these broadcasts. Too much work for something that would just pop up somewhere else. “They will try to fight back, but they’re growing weaker every day!” Next.

The static fills my ears once again. It feels comforting, somehow. The noise makes me feel safe.  
The peace is short-lived, though.

“A message to any and all remaining Apex Predators,” I nearly fall over from the shock of hearing Blisk’s voice. What the hell does he mean? I thought all of us were dead— Oh, right. He probably found some new ones. All of us are replaceable, he would tell us. “Rally at rendezvous point Bravo. Blisk out.”   
The helmet must still be connected to the line he uses. I never thought to take it off.

My heart pounds in my chest as I rip the helmet off. I never thought (or wanted) to hear his voice again. I feel sick— like I heard something that wasn’t meant for me. Although, to be fair, that’s exactly what happened.

“Oh God...” I groan, covering my face with my hands. I really need to start leaving the helmet alone.


	7. The Stressed Snake Bites It’s Own Tail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :)

My accidental meetings with Jack Cooper become more regular as time moves on. It’s dangerous to let him get so close— he’s not an idiot, he’ll figure out who I was sooner rather than later. I’ll have to face the consequences when that happens. But for now, I just can’t find it in myself to push him away. Stupid Militia pilot with his stupidly charming smile. I hate him.

“Nearly got poisoned yesterday.” Cooper grins at me, like he’s proud of being important enough to warrant attempts on his life.

“Oh yeah?” I take a sip of my drink before glancing in his direction. He’s leaning towards me, his arms crossed on the bar. “Obviously it didn’t work. You’re still here chatting my ear off,” I shoot a glare at the drink in my hand. “Unless this shitty alcohol is finally getting to me, and I’m just talking to myself.”

He laughs at that, as he so often does at my terrible attempts at humor. “No, I can assure you that I’m very much real,” He bumps my arm with his elbow, as if to prove it. “And I don’t think this is entirely alcohol,” Duh. The real stuff is too expensive for a place like this. “I’m pretty sure it’s mostly just water.”

I snort, nodding along to his thoughts. “At least I’m getting hydrated, huh?” The sound of his laughter gives me a warm feeling deep in my gut. I hate it. I hate how easy it is for him to get below my skin, to draw me out of my comfort zone. It’s probably one of the reasons why practically everyone loves him— the bastard is just too damn nice.

“Good on you for finding the upside!” He bumps my shoulder yet again. He’s a very hands-on sort of guy, it seems. Not that I have anything against that, per se. Maybe I should start setting boundaries. Maybe. “Y’know, my titan says that a positive outlook is the mark of a good pilot.” That titan of his, the Vanguard— this is the first time he’s mentioned it. Feels like I’ve unlocked some sort of achievement— “Get Jack Cooper to Talk About his Vanguard.”

“Does he?” I tilt my head. “You’d better watch your back, Cooper. I’m gonna be taking your place.”

“I think I’d like to see that,” He grins, sitting back in his seat. “You can be the next big hero. I don’t know about any planet-ending superweapons, though. I’ll tell you if I hear about any.” I’d probably hear about it before he would— word travels fast when you’re in the right circles. Or the wrong ones, I guess. 

“As long as you tell me first,” I nudge his leg with my knee. I really shouldn’t be this nonchalant around him. It’ll lead to careless mistakes.  
The light blush on his face makes me toss any ideas of restraint out the window.  
“I’m sure my mugshot would look great next to yours.”


	8. Defanged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the hunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m writing this on mobile so please tell me if you see any words that seem wrong. It’s probably either autocorrect or my own stupidity

It’s a Saturday morning and I have absolutely nothing to do. Back to the helmet, it is.  
The helmet’s an unhealthy obsession— I’ll admit that. I just can’t seem to get rid of it. Not that I’ve tried, though. It would feel sacrilegious. I spent the better part of my life as Viper, how would I be able to throw him away?   
I feel like it’s the only thing I have that proves Viper actually existed. That I haven’t been Dominic Taylor my whole life.

If I throw the helmet out, all of that will go away. I’ll be left as some boring Angel City inhabitant who’s never set foot outside of the city walls, much less the planet itself. I don’t know what I do, then.

So I sit with Viper until we’ve become the same person, again. It feels right, somehow. Something about returning to my rightful self, or some equally poetic shit like that. I feel calm.

At least, until a message comes through.

My helmet is still attached to the Apex Predators comm system, (I had figured that taking it off would look suspicious.) 

“You’re not dead.” I don’t think I’ve ever seen such sinister-looking words. 

I yank the helmet off and throw it to the other side of the room. It hits the wall with a sharp crack before landing. Great, maybe I finally broke it.

I sit there for a while, staring and thinking. Now I have a great reason to never touch the helmet again, (Not That I’ve ever been particularly reasonable. And I’m also not the kind of person who sees risks for what they are. I’m an idiot, is what I’m trying to say.)  
So Blisk knows that I’m alive. Or he knows that someone has taken Viper’s helmet. Neither one feels particularly encouraging.

So what now? Do I just wait for him to hunt me down? Do I try to make a break for it and catch the nearest exoplanet flight?  
No, he’ll be expecting that. He’ll be expecting me to run.

My gaze slides towards the helmet slowly. I feel like it’s watching me, relaying my every move to Blisk. It feels like a betrayal.  
When the visor flashes red, I flee my room.


	9. A Sweet Word Can Attract a Serpent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chatting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter so far... hopefully there aren’t any typos lol

“Do you believe in ghosts?” Cooper is leaning against the bar, staring at me like this question will make or break our tentative friendship.

“Ghosts?” I chuckle. “No, why do you ask?”

“I don’t know,” He shrugs, and I can’t believe that he has the nerve to look disappointed. “I just like to think that they exist. It feels nice to think that they’re still with us.” 

“That’s a nice sentiment,” He’s probably talking about Lastimosa, the poor bastard. I almost feel sorry for him. Almost. “You can believe in it all you want. I won’t stop you.”

That draws a smile out of Cooper. “Thanks. I can’t really talk about this kinda stuff with other pilots. Gossip travels fast, y’know?” Oh, I know alright. Pilots are a notoriously chatty bunch. 

“Is that what constitutes as gossip in the Militia? Jack Cooper’s belief in ghosts?” Gossip wasn’t any more interesting in the Apex Predators. Richter had gotten a new knife and we talked about it for a week.

Cooper shrugs. “You’d be surprised.  
We fall into a comfortable silence, nursing our drinks and enjoying each other’s company. I think he’s my first real friend since I joined the Apex Predators. He might be my first real friend ever— I never was a very popular child. How sad.  
I guess I can allow myself this one indulgence. He’s gotten too close. I don’t think I’d be able to push him away now. Not that I want to.

“What’s it like?” I break the silence, glancing over at him. “Being a pilot, I mean. You’re the first one I’ve ever gotten the chance to talk with.”

He looks away, seemingly thinking my question over. “It’s... different, I guess. It’s almost like you’re sharing a mind with someone else,” He taps the back of his head. “And piloting, it’s— God, I don’t even know how to explain it.” I understand what he means. Your titan becomes a part of you, an extension.

“I’ve always wanted to be a pilot,” Uh Oh. I really should learn how to shut up. “They’re really picky about who they let into the program. I missed my chance to sign up ‘cause I broke my leg the month before.” Good idea, Dominic— keep lying and digging yourself into a deeper hole. What could go wrong?

“Oh, well,” His eyebrows furrow as he thinks. “No offense, but it’s probably a good thing they didn’t let you in. The training is difficult enough when you’re at the top of your game. With a freshly-healed leg, you probably wouldn’t have made it.”  
He’s absolutely right. Pilot training is ridiculously risky— most trainees don’t make it far enough to hear that they won’t become a fully-fledged pilot. The death rate is nearly 100.

“Yeah, I know,” I shrug. “A guy can hope, though. I wanted to pilot one of those Northstars. Always thought they were the coolest titans.” Cooper pours at me— literally, actually pouts— and tilts his head to the side.

“Even cooler than Vanguards?” He’s joking, obviously, but but I feel like it’s some sort of test.   
I hum, pretending to think over the question.

“Well, cooler than most Vanguards. I guess yours is an exception,” The smile has returned to his face. It seems that I’ve passed the test. “None of those other titans can compare to him, it’s unfair.”

“Yeah, BT’s great,” Cooper looks like a proud parent bragging about their favorite kid. “Wouldn’t trade him for the world. We’ve been through a lot, y’know.”  
Oh, I know. I could tell they were a great pair— It takes a special breed to take to piloting so easily. I wouldn’t have been able to do it, had I been in his position.

“You know, I actually worked with a titan, once,” Oh my God, Shut up, shut up, you’re going to get yourself killed. “There was one that case through, a couple years ago. They needed repairs bad, and I figured, ‘If I can fix a car, I can fix a titan.’”

“Did it work?” He leans his head on his fist. “Or did you end up making it worse?”

I place a hand in my chest in mock offense. “Do you really think so poorly of my abilities?” Cooper hurries time assure me that he was just kidding, that he’s sure I’m good at my job. “No, you’re fine. I didn’t break it any more than what had gone wrong already. Kept it stable so that someone who knew what they were doing could fix it.”

“I guess that’s all you could’ve done, anyway,” He shrugs. “I’m glad the titan didn’t explode, though.”

“Hey,” I chuckle, raising my glass towards him. “Here’s to titans not blowing up.” We bump our drinks together and take a sip. I can almost swear I feel a hand brush against mine.


	10. Unruly Evil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another flashback lol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time is kinda loose in this story. Not a lot of things are given specific dates in titanfall. My Viper is around 41 in the main story and Jack is 35 or so.  
Also I know that the tf2 titans are fairly new and that the game doesn’t take place too long after the first one, but for the purposes of this fic northstars and the other titans have been around for a while

— 20 years earlier —

It’s the moment of truth— now or never. I stand shoulder-to-shoulder with my peers, stock helmet in hand. We’re getting our titans today. I almost can’t believe I actually made it this far, that I didn’t die during the grueling training.

We’re standing in front of three titans— one for each of us. I’m staring at the Northstar that’s supposed to be mine. I’ve been around plenty of titans before, but this one feels particularly intimidating.

“Pilot Matthews, step forward.” The IMC official speaks up, breaking the careful silence. The woman on my left steps away from the group.   
Christie Matthews, I think her name is. We never really talked. I thought she was mute for the longest time, actually.

They go through a small initiation ceremony— lots of handshakes and congratulations, the usual. She walks over to the Scorch and climbs into the cockpit. I rise onto my toes in an attempt to get a better look. We’re establishing links? Here? Now?

There are a few minutes of silence before she steps out. She doesn’t look any different, but the Scorch seems to be a little more animated— Dare I say, a little more human. 

“Pilot Taylor, please step forward.” Oh God. It’s my turn. I move away from the group slowly, keeping my eyes trained on the IMC official. This is what you’ve been dreaming about, Dominic. Time to reap what you’ve sown.   
I shake hands with all of the bored-looking officials. They’re being payed to be here— you’d figure they’d at least pretend to be excited.  
After the pleasantries, I turn to face my soon-to-be titan. The Northstar is standing perfectly still, staring me down with its bright red optic. I suppress a shiver. Don’t show fear, Dominic. You’re the one in control, here.

“Pilot, take a seat and we will establish a neural link,” It speaks softly, crouching down and opening the cockpit door.   
I take a deep breath and climb in. It’s the point of no return, I guess.   
The hatch closes and I pull the helmet into my head. “This will only take a moment.”

The blinding pain is nearly unbearable, but it is quickly replaced by an overwhelming sense of calm.   
I release my breath, unaware of when I started holding it. The cockpit is illuminated by the red light of my helmet, but it feels safe. It feels like nothing can hurt me in here.


	11. Gone By Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another Jack chapter :) I love that dude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it turns out I just... forgot to write this chapter? I write all of my stuff in advance but I just skipped this chapter lol

“If you keep coming over here and bothering me, I’m gonna start to suspect that you like me.” Cooper snickers at my side, raising his drink up to his mouth. 

“I hate to say it, but you might be spot on.”

“Oh yeah?” I glance over, seeing him nod in affirmation. “There’s no one else in this city who you’d rather be drinking with?” The question feels too personal. Like I’m crossing some unspoken line. But he just smiles at me and shakes his head.

“Nope,” He pops the “p” and raises his chin. “Everyone in this city is either drunk or stupid,” He rolls his eyes. It’s charming when he reveals what he’s really thinking— when he’s not acting under the guise of politeness. It feels like I’m getting a peek at some part of him that he doesn’t want to show. A part that isn’t fitting for a hero. “You’re kind of the only person around that I can have an actual conversation with.”

I smile, but it feels slick and cruel when compared to his. Dominic Taylor’s scarred face wasn’t meant to smile. “I’m glad that I rank above idiots and drunkards. Didn’t know I made such a good impression.”

“Well, you haven’t thrown up in me, yet,” He crosses his arms and leans against the bar, putting on a facade of deep thought. “That’s definitely a plus. And you paid for my drink that one time, remember?”

I shake my head slowly, trying to contain my laughter. “Oh God, stop bringing that up. I told you— I wasn’t the one who bought that drink. It was that weird guy at the end of the bar.”

He shrugs, as if I was simply stating my opinion. “Whatever. I’ll just pretend that it was you. Call it, uh, wishful thinking.” I don’t think Cooper could be subtle isle his life depended on it.

“Is this your way of telling me that you want another drink?” I chuckle at his energetic nod. “Shit, how can I say no to a face like that?” I call the bartender over and order two of whatever cheap crap Cooper seems to like. How cute, now we’re drinking the same thing. I’m going to vomit. It’s so domestic.

We sit close to each other, taking in the scene around us. Cooper keeps looking at me— I can see it out of the corner of my eye. Maybe I have something on my face. Or maybe he’s only now realizing how ugly I am. Maybe he’ll get up without another word and leave. I don’t know how I’d feel if I never saw him again. Well, I do, but I’m not going to admit it. I’m not nearly drunk enough to start talking about my feelings.

“Can I ask you something?” He scoots closer, lowering my voice. “You don’t have to say yes. It’s, uh... probably kind of personal.”

I suppress a shiver at the change of tone. Oh God, yes. I’d tell you who I was if you asked like that. “Sure. Go ahead.”

“Your scars,” He looks concerned, as if I had no idea they were there. “They’re pretty rough, how’d you get them?” Oh fuck. I can’t tell him the truth— that they’re from a botched attempt on my life. How would a person like Dominic Taylor get scars like these? “Y-you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” He’s backtracking hard, now. My silence must have made him nervous.

“No, no, it’s fine,” I stare at the various dents in the bar. “You know those things— the, uh... the prowlers?” I see him nod. “Someone smuggled one into the city, and it got out of its cage.”

“Jeez...” Cooper rests a hand on my shoulder, and I can feel the heat through my jacket. “I’ve fought a bunch of those things before. They sneak up on you.” Oh yeah, Ash was real fond of prowlers— I remember seeing her toss them into a bunch of those simulations.

“That they do,” I smile, but it feels forced. Smiling is difficult for me, now. The scars have set my face into a permanent grimace. “Let’s change the subject. How’s BT?”


	12. Back Door Deals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viper at the black market be like: what should I buy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is really short, so I’m probably going to post 2 today

Despite the “pleasant” appearance, Angel City has a huge market for all things illegal. I’m not in a position to buy anything, but I enjoy seeing the honestly insane shit they sell. I saw a human arm, once.

The market itself is in some abandoned warehouse on the far edge of the city. It’s always a warehouse, isn’t it? I don’t know where all of these abandoned buildings are coming from— property is valuable in the frontier.

I’m standing near one of the walls, watching the booths and shoppers. There’s an auction going on to my left, but I still haven’t figured out what they’re actually bidding on.  
I can spot the sword of a Ronin laying against the makeshift stage. Oh. I guess there’s a demand for titans tonight.

Thoroughly intrigued, I make my way towards the auction. It wasn’t news to me that there are underground markets for titans and their parts, but I had never seen one in action.

“Sold! To the lovely lady in blue!” The auctioneer’s nasally voice hurts my ears. He looks like the kind of guy who’s here because he likes the action, not cause he needs the money.

There’s a Ronin standing stiffly in front of the stage. It seems to be frozen in place— remaining still and silent. I have no doubt it’s being controlled remotely. Establishing a link would be stupid.  
The titan is lead out of the auction ring by “the lovely lady in blue.” I wonder what a person like her needs a titan for. Probably a present, or something. Who knows.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” The auctioneer crows loudly. “We have a very special surprise for tonight!” There are a few moments of excited chatter before— holy shit, that’s a Vanguard.   
I have to run my eyes to make sure I’m not hallucinating. But no, there’s an actual Vanguard being brought into the ring.   
There’s a market for everything, I guess. 

Maybe I should tell Cooper about this.   
“Hey, are you Militia boys missing a titan?”


	13. Serpents Hide Amongst Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh! Oops, uh oh! Oh no! Whoops! Ouch! Uh oh!

“You really can’t keep to yourself, huh kid?” I can see him in the corner of my eye, sitting in the barstool next to mine with that stupid grin in his face.

“I can, but I’m choosing not to. Besides, are you going to start every conversation with some vague hint that you hate me?” Cooper scoots closet, bringing his beer with him. I find myself staring at the drink in his hand— it’s bound to be warm by now, but he’s still hanging onto it.

“Maybe. But you really should,” I meet his gaze before looking away. He’s far too open— easy to read like a book. “I could be dangerous. Maybe I’m planning to kidnap you and collect that bounty you’ve got.” I push my own drink away. I don’t even like alcohol, but it helps drown out the static of the broken link. 

“If you really have been planning that, you wouldn’t have told me about it,” Cooper looks So proud of himself, so assured in his beliefs. “And you definitely would have done it by now. You had your chance when you bought me that drink, but I’m still here, aren’t I?” He’s leaning close to me, now. The smell of his cheap cologne would disgust me, if it was on anyone else. On him, it’s charming. 

“You can believe that all you want,” I’m smiling, now— when did I start smiling? “Just makes my job that much easier,” I ignore my better judgement and lean closer to him. We’re sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, muttering and laughing. He’s too close. He’s far too close, but I can’t find it in myself to move away.  
We’re in our own world, now. Everything else feels so far away— the war, the titans, even Blisk. All that matters is the man sitting across from me. Oh God. I’m getting sentimental. I hate alcohol.

“Remember what you said to me the first time we met?” He hums. Vaguely— probably some death threat. Cooper doesn’t know that, though. Viper is dead. He’ll never fly again.  
“You said—“ He presses a finger against my arm. “‘Aren’t you that Militia pilot on the news?’” I snort at the terrible impression. “And then I said—“

“You said no,” I chuckle, the memory flooding back. “And then the T.V. has the news playing, and your mugshot was put up.” The story itself isn’t all that funny, but Cooper’s laughter is contagious. 

“Oh my God,” He looks away and his hand brushes mine. “I thought I was going to die,” He brings his bottle to his lips and grimaces. “There is was, standing in front of a handsome stranger, making a fool out of myself.”

My brain pauses as I try to make sense out of his words. Jack Cooper, Milita hero and heartthrob, thought that Dominic— goddamn— Taylor was handsome.  
“Uh,” I respond stupidly. And with my dumbass declaration , the moment is ruined.

“Closing time.” The bartender pulls my drunk away from me. Cooper pulls back, and the loss of warmth is almost unbearable.

“I’ll, um... I guess I’ll see you next weekend, right?” He has the audacity to look disappointed— that bastard.  
Before I have the chance to stop myself, I’ve already grabbed onto his arm. 

“I have drinks at home,” I clear my throat, my momentary panic gone. “If you want to, uh, hang out,” I cringe as I hear myself. ‘Hang out?’ He’s supposed to be your mortal enemy, not your goddamn drinking buddy.  
The smile on his face quickly ends all thoughts of taking the offer back.

“Really?” He sounds so bright and excited, totally unlike the silent pilot I nearly lost my life to. All of that feels unimportant, now. Water under the bridge.

“Yeah, it’s nothing fancy, but, uh...” I gesture towards his drink. “You don’t strike me as a beer snob.”

“Oh God, no,” Cooper laughs. He laughs at a lot of the things I say. That’s probably part of what attracted me to him— he’s so unlike any of my past ‘friends.’ “When you live on a military base, you learn to take what you can get.”

“That so?” I ask as I hold the bar door open for him. “Figured you Militia boys would be stockpiling the good stuff.” The cold air provides a welcomed contrast to my flushed face. October has always been my favorite month.

“You would think,” Cooper rolls his eyes as we walk side by side, our shoulders bumping occasionally. “If they are, the Rifleman and the pilots sure as hell aren’t seeing it. After the Ark, we celebrated with Coors lite. Ugh.”

“Ew,” I laugh, wrinkling my nose. We fall into an amicable silence as I lead him through my apartment building. Cooper’s probably the only person I’ve brought in. “It’s uh, a little messy,” I run the back of my neck. “I wasn’t really expecting company.”

“No, it’s fine,” He’s too polite to say anything else. “I’m not that much of a clean freak.”

“Didn’t think so,” I grin at him over my shoulder. It’s too easy to fall into comfortable banter with him. It feels like he’s slowly prying my walls open. There’s only so long I can let this continue without him finding something he’s not supposed to. 

I unlock the door to my apartment and hold it open for him. I watch him wander for a moment before I head towards the fridge.  
“I’ve got some beers in here. Nothing impressive, but—“ 

“What is this?” Cooper interrupts me, and the concern in his voice is enough to make me pause. “Dominic, where did you get this?”  
I turn hesitantly, cold dread making my body feel numb. I know what he’s holding before I even see it. And there it is— nestled in his hands like some sort of sick prize.  
Viper’s helmet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck


	14. And All Sins Shall be Lain Bare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viper makes amends

The room is silent as we stare at one another. I knew something like this was bound to happen, but not something this damning this soon.  
I struggle to think of something, anything, to say, but it feels like my brain has been shut off. How am I supposed to make this right? I’ve been caught red-handed. I’m as good as dead. 

“It’s—“ I cut myself off as my voice cracks. The look on Cooper’s face breaks my heart. There’s fear and anger and a thinly veiled sense of betrayal. I’d give anything to not have him look at me like that. “It’s a replica,” I breath out. His eyebrows furrow in confusion as he glances down at the object in his hands. “They make them for every well-known helmet. Uh, I got it before...” Keep digging yourself deeper, Dominic. That’s all you’re good for, at this point. “Looking at it now, I can see it’s in bad taste.”

Cooper doesn’t move as I walk closer to him.  
“I can... put it away.” He nods, and I gingerly lift the helmet out of his hands.

My limbs feel heavy as I walk away. I should have known. I glare down at the helmet. It seems so evil, now— like it had been planning to do this. Viper continues to make things difficult from beyond the grave. I stuff the helmet into the back of my closet, like the shameful thing it is.

When I leave my room, I’m surprised to see that Cooper hasn’t left. He’s sitting on my sad excuse for a couch, holding one of my beers in his hand.  
I approach him tentatively, as if moving too fast will scare him.  
“You okay?” I ask quietly, laying a hand on his shoulder. My heart squeezes painfully when he flinched away from my touch.

“Yeah—“ Cooper clears his throat and sits up. He won’t look me in the eye. “Yeah, it’s just... I don’t like thinking about what happened,”  
I sit next to him, careful to leave some space between us. “Nearly died because of that—“ He cuts himself off. It’s so painfully in-character for him to not insult the dead. “Let’s just... talk about something a little less depressing.” He shoots a small smile in my direction, and it feels like a peace offering.

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” I respond with what I hope is an encouraging smile. It feels more like a grimace, though. “You, uh, hmm...” I look away as I struggle to find something to talk about. I’m horrible at starting conversations. “Do you like movies?” Good one, Dominic. Remind him of the person who tried to kill him and then ask him if he fucking likes movies. God, I should just shut up.

A weak laugh escapes from Cooper, and he rubs his eyes. “I do. You have any?” Okay, Dominic. He hasn’t yelled at you to shut up, yet. You still have the chance to salvage this situation. Just. Whatever you do, don’t mention fucking—

“I have Top Gun,” I fucking hate you. “If... if you’re into that sort of thing. I mean— you like that sort of thing.”

There’s a moment of silence as we stare at each other. His eyes are red— he must have been crying. The guilt clawing at my gut worsens. I make up my mind to never see that look again. Not if I have any say in it.

“I think I’d like that, Dominic.” I like the way he says my name. Oh, God. This is a disaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol Viper has a mullet I’m calling it now


	15. Mine! Mine! Mine!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aah the longest chapter yet!  
As always, I don’t have a beta reader so please tell me if there are any glaring issues!

“Oh fuck...” I groan as I crack my eyes open.  
I must’ve fallen asleep on the couch. I’m getting too old to do that.  
I can hear hear “danger zone” still coming from the TV— Oh, right. Cooper came over and I made a fool of myself.  
There’s someone leaning against my side. I close my eyes and pull in a deep breath. Please don’t be him. Please tell me we didn’t fall asleep in my couch watching fucking Top Gun. I don’t know if I’d be able to handle that.

I open an eye and glance over, nearly crying when I see that his head is on my shoulder. It’s too domestic. It’s too much for someone like me.  
I stand up quickly, ignoring the choked noise of surprise coming from Cooper. I mutter some bullshit excuse before retreating to the bathroom. I lock the door.

I can hear him moving around my apartment as I sit in the dark. I’m panicking, what the hell am I supposed to do?  
You could always go and talk to him, Dominic.  
Yeah, I could, but I don’t think I’d be able to look him in the eye without stuttering like an idiot.  
No. Focus. Viper never stuttered. You shouted death threats at Cooper while fighting on top of a moving battleship. You can talk to him after a night of accidental cuddling. 

I push the door open, and spot him pulling on his jacket near the door.  
“Oh, I was just going to leave,” Cooper tosses a forced smile in my direction. “Sorry I fell asleep on your couch. Didn’t mean to intrude.”

“You have a ride?” My voice sounds quiet and distant. “The base is far away. Uh, at least I think it is.”

“Five-point-five miles,” His smile turns bitter, and I can feel myself shrink away. “I had a ride back, but I missed it. I’ll just start walking, the exercise will help wake me up.”

“I’ll give you a ride back,” I blurt out. His expression turns to one of surprise— he probably wasn’t expecting me to say anything at all. And to be fair, I wasn’t planning on talking. “I mean, if you want. I’ve got my motorcycle.” Because that’s exactly what I want right now— to be insanely close to Jack Cooper as I drive him back home.  
It’s almost funny. Will Sarah Briggs be there, waiting in the porch? Will she yell at me for keeping her prodigy out past his curfew?

“You don’t have to,” Of course he’ll refuse at first. He’s too polite to just take a free ride. 

“No, it’s cold, and I don’t want the Militia’s savior to get frostbite,” I pull my bomber jacket (the thing is older than I am— I found it at some thrift shop) on and grab my keys. “The ride won’t be much warmer, but it won’t take as long.

“If you insist,” Cooper’s smile has returned, and I can feel myself growing warmer already. 

“Yes, I do insist.” I pull the door open and lead him out. The walk to the garage is silent, save for the occasional comment from Cooper. The air is cold, but we keep a safe distance from each other. I find myself missing the contact.

I fumble with my keys as I attempt to open the small storage container that I use to house my motorcycle. “I, uh... I only have one helmet,” I push the sliding door up. “You can wear it.”

“You sure?” The worry in Cooper’s voice is kind of flattering. “It’s your helmet and your bike. I don’t want you to, like... I dunno, flip off the bike and break your skull.”

“Your confidence in my ability to drive is astounding,” I drawl, picking my helmet up off the seat. “And I appreciate your concern, but it’s my my motorcycle and my helmet, so I decide who gets to wear it,” I walk over to him and place my helmet in his hands. “So there. You don’t get to argue about it with me anymore.”

I hear Cooper grumble as I walk my motorcycle out of the the garage. He pulls my helmet on before slipping onto the bike behind me. I nearly choke at the feeling of his body fitting neatly against mine. I would say it’s a perfect fit, but I’m not about to wax poetic about the guy whose lap I’m nearly sitting in. Oh God. Why did I think about that.

I shift in my seat as I start the motorcycle, the familiar purr soothing my nerves. My breath hitches as I feel Cooper’s hands rest lightly against my sides. Oh God. I’m going to end up wrecking this stupid bike.  
I pull out into the street, decidedly ignoring the feeling of Cooper’s warm hands against my waist.

After a moment of silence, he speaks up. “Do you want to meet BT?” He says suddenly. It feels like it’s something he’s been meaning to ask me. I glance back at him briefly, but my helmet is obscuring any clues I would have gotten from his face. 

“Think he’d like me?” Think he’d figure out who you are through some bullshit scan? “Or is this, like... some sort of complicated murder plot?” His laugh is even more unbearable up close, where I can feel the deep rumble in his chest. I think I’m going insane.

“No, I’ve told him about you. Only good things, though! I promise,” I can hear the smile in his voice. “He’s not going to hurt you. Not unless you, like, pull a gun on me or something.”

I shake my head. “Damn, there goes my plan to impress you. I thought pilots liked that sort of thing.”

He hums, low and deep. “No, I don’t think so. That’s probably the fastest way to get thrown out of the Militia.”

“If you say so.” I stop talking as the Militia compound comes into view. It seems so imposing, now. Like the building itself knows what I’ve done.  
I pull up alongside a massive hangar door (At Cooper’s directions) and turn the bike off. The silence that follows is almost deafening. 

“Come on,” Cooper grins as he gets off, laying my helmet on the seat of the motorcycle. “I want you to meet him.”

“Moving a little fast, huh?” Oh my God, Shut up. “What, am I going to meet your parents next?”  
The dirty look he shoots at me is enough to get the point across. Ouch. Sore subject, I guess. “Okay, I’ll just stop talking. Lead the way, Cooper.” His face softens, and that makes me feel just a little bit better.

“C’mon, let’s get going,” He punches a code into they keypad, and the door slides open. I step in as he herds me into the building. It feels almost sacrilegious, stepping into a militia base. How many of their men have I killed? Surely, too many to count.  
“It’s this way,” Cooper breaks me out of my thoughts, grabbing onto my arm and dragging me deeper into the base. It’s not nearly as pristine as the IMC bases I’ve been in, but it has a certain charm to it.  
We pass a MRVN in the hallway. I’ve always liked MRVNs. Thought they were cute.

“Will I get shot if if one of your Militia friends spots me?” I ask, keeping my voice down.  
I can imagine it— Dominic Taylor, local nobody, shot to death by Militia idiot. How embarrassing.

“Nah, you’ll be fine,” Cooper’s still holding onto my arm. I can’t tell if he realizes it or not. I don’t bring it up. “You’re hanging out with me, yeah? I’ll make sure they know I brought you.”

“Do all your drinking buddies get this sort of treatment?” I can’t help but ask.

The bright smile he gives me nearly makes me stop in my tracks. “Nah, just you. And I think we’ve moved past just drinking buddies,” He stops in front of a door that leads to another one of the hangars. Cooper glances back at me and grins before pushing the door open.

“Hey, bud!” The bright blue optic is the first thing that draws my attention. BT is staring at me, and I can almost feel my skin crawl. He knows. Oh my God, he knows and he’s going to kill me.  
“BT, this is Dominic. Dominic, this is BT.”  
He’s looking between the two of us, a hopeful look on his face. Wow, he must really want this to work.

“It’s good to finally meet you,” BT rumbles. Wow... what a deep voice. “Jack has told me a lot about you, Dominic.” Wow, first name basis? I don’t think my titan called me anything other than “Pilot Taylor” or “Viper.”

“I’ve, uh, heard a lot about you, too,” I stutter. I’m panicking, and from the concerned look on his face, Cooper can tell.  
“Uh, good things, though! About Harmony and, um, the Fold weapon,” I’m rambling, now. Talking only to fill the silence. “It’s really cool what you did.” I cringe as the words exit my mouth. ‘Cool?’ This isn’t a middle school science fair, Dominic. Get a grip.

Cooper chuckles, relieving some of the strange tension. “Seems like you’ve got a fan, huh bud?” He turns a reassuring smile in my direction as he places a hand on BT’s leg. 

BT’s optic seems to stare into my very soul. “Yes, it seems that way.” His voice is low and even, as always. No signs of what he’s actually thinking. This is unbelievably stressful. I don’t think this situation could get any worse.

“Pilot Cooper!” Speak of the devil. “Where were you? Nobody had any way of contacting you, and we had no idea where you went!” Sarah Briggs has stormed into the hangar, several pilots in tow.  
“And who is this?” She gestures towards me. Cooper seems to be at a loss for words, glancing between her and I. 

For a minute, we all just stand there in silence.  
Briggs has her hands on her hips, and is staring at Cooper like she expected an answer an hour ago.  
Cooper is staring at me, now, an apologetic look on his face.

“He was with me. Uh, Ma’am,” I speak up, stepping forward.  
Oh, okay. I guess we’re just abandoning all hope of making it out alive.  
“I wanted to know more about the Militia. ‘Cause, uh... I’m interested in joining.” I stare at the wall behind her, not wanting to make eye contact.

“Oh! Yeah!” Cooper straightens up, looking over at Briggs. “He’s an experienced mechanic, and I thought he had a lot of potential!” I feel myself turn red at that. Jack Cooper, savior of millions, thought that I had potential. Is this some sort of Militia courting ritual?

“We’re going to have to...” Briggs looks me up and down. “Discuss this, Cooper. The IMC is getting desperate, and I don’t want to find out they’re sending in spies,” Uh oh. Maybe I should tell her that’s exactly what they’re doing. “In the meantime, you’re welcome to stay here, where you can be watched, mister..?”

“Dominic Taylor,” I respond. “Just Dominic Taylor.”


	16. Even Snakes are Afraid of Snakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viper fixes problems by making more of them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whips* Thank you so much to everyone who has read this story and/or left kudos! This isn’t the first time I’ve written fanfiction, but it’s the first time I’ve actually posted it. *nae naes*

I’m stuck in the hangar as Cooper and Briggs leave. The Militia pilots stayed— presumably to make sure I don’t wreck anything. This is definitely not how I expected this day to go.

“Didn’t this would be how we met again,” One of them speaks up. Oh, it’s that simulacrum.  
They walk over to me and hold out a hand. “Cecil. Never actually introduced myself last time.” I grab onto their hand and shake it.

“How’s the car holding up?” I can’t help but ask.

“Great! It’ll be awesome if Briggs lets you in— no one here knows how to fix a car. Only mechanics here are for the titans.” I can hear the smile in their voice.  
Only titan mechanics, huh? I guess that makes sense. Cars aren’t exactly a top priority in a war zone.

“You’ve met?” One of the other pilots speaks up. She’s had her hand on her holstered P2016 since Briggs walked in. I’m worried about if she’s trigger-happy or just plain paranoid.

“Remember how I took Betty into Angel City the other day? This guy helped fix her up,” They’ve placed a hand on my shoulder— are all Militia pilots so hands-on? “He’s cool Jesse, trust me.”

All we get in reply is a ‘humph’ and a distasteful look. At least, that’s what I assume she’s doing. She’s got her helmet on, for some reason.

There are two other pilots who are keeping their distance— a cloak and a pulse blade. They must not be interested in conversation. I don’t blame them.

It’s nearly an hour of awkward silence before Cooper and Briggs return. He’s smiling, so it probably means he’s convinced her. I don’t know if I should take this as a good thing or a bad thing. Good for Cooper, bad for my sense of self-preservation. 

Cooper grabs onto my shoulders and smiles. “You’re in!” He says quietly. For what reason, I don’t know. “It took some bribing, but she says you can stay!”

“What kind of bribing?” I ask reluctantly. 

“I kinda have to wash her titan after the next deployment,” He chuckles softly. “But you’re in!”

Wow, he’s willing to do that in order to get me a spot in the Militia? I’m touched.  
“I feel like I should offer to help you, but I’ve never washed a titan before.” Liar.

“It’ll be a great learning experience! And you’ll get to interact with another titan! It’ll be fun!”  
I’ve never seen someone so happy at the thought of doing manual labor. Jack Cooper is a strange man.

“First thing’s first,” Briggs butts in. “You’re going to need to visit the medbay for a physical. It’s standard for new recruits,” She pats Cooper on the shoulder. “Pilot Cooper’ll bring you there.”

The medbay itself isn’t anything special. It’s a little less high-tec than the IMC hospitals, but it looks largely the same. There are a few medics milling around, and a couple of soldiers laying in the cots.  
One of the doctors walks up to me— her name tag says Dr. Hampton.

“Can I help you?” She’s looking between the two of us, as if to preemptively scope out injuries.

“I’m here for the physical,” I respond. “Sarah Briggs sent me.”

“Ah, you must be new,” She picks a clipboard up off of a desk— the Militia must prefer pen and paper. How retro. “You can follow me. Pilot Cooper, you can return to your duties.” She places a hand on my arm— God, more touching.  
Cooper nods stiffly— it seems like something’s bothering him. Was it the touch?  
She leads me deeper into the medbay, listing off the different information they need and the tests they run. She tells me they’ll have to run a brain scan— a brain scan, for God’s sake. Why do they need that?

It feels like I’ve been waiting for hours before I finally get through all the tests. I’m sitting in one of the examination rooms, clad in one of those shitty paper hospital gowns. I’m not a fan of hospitals. The last time I was in one, they nearly amputated my finger. The smell of disinfectant makes me nervous.

Dr. Hampton steps into the room, clutching the clipboard to her chest. She seems concerned about something— hopefully she’s not about to tell me I have some sort of awful disease.  
“Mr. Taylor,” She begins hesitantly. “The brain scan came back and... I don’t want to make any assumptions, but...” Spit it out! Please just spit it out and get this over with! “Were you previously linked to a titan?”

Oh. My brain stops in its tracks as the words are processed.  
“Me. Taylor, you can tell me the truth,” She places a reassuring touch in my shoulder. I don’t even feel it. “Patient confidentiality is critical, here. What you tell me will not leave this room, but it will help us properly care for you.”

I pause as I think her words over.  
“Promise?” My voice is quiet and unsure. My facade feels like it’s crumbling around me. I’m the same person I was after waking up in the wreckage of the Draconis— just as small and scared.

She pulls up a chair and sits across from me. “Absolutely. If I tattled on you, we would both be in big trouble.” She smiles at me, and I can feel myself relax slightly. Curse these Milita bastards and their ability to calm me down. 

“I was a pilot,” The words slip past my lips, oily and slick. “For the IMC. I’m not a spy, though,” I meet her gaze, as if eye contact will convince her that I’m being sincere. “They think I’m dead.”

She nods slowly, as if she had been expecting something like this. “I see. All that matters now, though, is that you’re here. However, if I were you. I would tell Sarah. Pilots are in short supply, and every person helps.”

“I’ll think about it.” I lie. I might be stupid, but I’m not suicidal.


	17. To the Gallows, Hand-in-Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A threat

The IMC has launched another assault.  
That’s all anyone will tell me. That’s all I really need to know, honestly. They’re getting desperate— trying to beat back the advancing Militia forces in any way they can.  
It’s only a matter of time before their armies are completely exhausted. This war is now a game of waiting.

Cooper and BT we’re deployed, and I was left here. Not surprising. I’ve only been at the base for three days.  
So now I’m stuck with the MRVNs, the janitors, and whoever else wasn’t needed. The base feels empty, now.

I sit in my bunk, flipping through one of the many magazines left around the compound.  
Cars and scantily-clad women. Classy.

The silence of the room is broken as the door is pushed open. Someone in a lab coat— one of the medics that had been left behind, I guess— Is standing in the doorframe, bundles of paper clenched in one hand. Uh oh. This doesn’t look good.

He stomps over to me (literally stomps, like a child throwing a tantrum) and shoves the papers into my face.

“What’s this, Huh?” He’s moving through papers too quickly for me to actually see what’s on them, but I have the feeling that I know what this is about. “What kinda game are you playing, huh?!”  
I don’t know what you’re talking about, huh? Why don’t you get those stupid papers out of my face, huh?

“Can I help you?” I push his arm away, setting the magazine down. 

“Oh, I don’t know!” His voice hitches up mockingly.  
He pushes the papers towards my face yet again. Only this time, I can tell what they actually are.  
Shit.  
The brain scans. 

“You’re not supposed to have those,” I glare at him. “Patient confidentiality, and all that.”

“Oh, I’m not breaking any laws!” He hisses. Ew. His breath stinks. “I’m in charge of medical files! Good thing, too! If it weren’t for me, IMC scum like you would go unnoticed!” It’s almost funny. He looks so proud of himself.

“I’m not IMC,” I respond. Technically, it’s not a lie. I’m not IMC *anymore.*

“Well, you’re not Militia!”

“You use your access to the files to figure that out?”

“No, I used common sense! But you’d better watch your back, scum. The only reason I haven’t turned you in is ‘cause Dr. Hampton would get in trouble. I’ve got my eye on you...” He backs out of the room, maintaining eye contact.

And with that, the protector of the Militia’s filing cabinets is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Æ


	18. As A Rule, Ravens are Singular

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heartache

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These idiots lol

The battle had been a massive success— not that I had expected any other outcome.  
The Militia is on a winning streak, and the entire base is celebrating.

I’m waiting in the hangar when Cooper finally returns. Both him and BT are covered in blood and dirt. I hate to say that the look suits Cooper. He certainly looks the part of a war hero.

“Dominic!” He beams, leaping off of BT’s shoulder and landing neatly in front of me. “Oh my God, you wouldn’t believe it!” He begins to rant about the battle. About how all of the IMC titans had been unbelievably old, or fresh off the assembly line new. They hadn’t stood a chance.  
He’s waving his hands around, gesturing wildly. It’s almost hard to keep up with his train of thought.

BT cuts his speech short. “Pilot Cooper sustained injuries during the battle. He requires medical assistance.”

“No, no, I’m fine,” He bobs his hands up and down in a placating motion. “It’s just a little cut, I’ll be fine. Besides, there are a bunch of other people who need help more than I do.” Now I can see what BT meant— there’s blood soaking through the glove on his left hand. There are a few drops of blood on the ground, too.

“Nuh-uh, I’m not gonna let you start the whole self-sacrificing thing, now,” I grab onto his arm, pulling him towards one of the hoses. He’s warm. He’s very warm.  
I tug the ruined glove off and hiss softly at the sight. There’s a large gash on the palm of his  
hand— large enough to need stitches.

“You really should have gone to the medbay,” I chose, running his hand under the cold water of the hose. “This isn’t something you’re gonna be able to sleep off.”

An overdramatic sigh from Cooper. “I know, I know. I wasn’t going to, like, hide it forever. I just wanted to wait until the medbay died down. Oh, uh, maybe that’s the wrong way to phrase it.”

I snort and shake my head, keeping my gaze focused on his hand. The blood is mostly gone, but I keep my hold. “You’re an idiot,” I mutter with too much fondness.

We stand there for what feel like an eternity, before he finally moves. He turns his hand over and grabs onto mine. And despite the freezing water, his hand is still pleasantly warm. 

Slowly, I look up at him. He’s only a few inches taller than me, but right now that difference feels massive.  
“I, uh...” Cooper starts, but he cuts himself off. Speaking doesn’t feel right. His grip on my hand is still tight— using his hand must hurt like hell.  
He makes no move to pull away as we stare at each other. In fact, I’m pretty sure he’s getting closer. 

A burst of static mimicking a cough, and the moment is broken beyond repair.  
“The medbay,” BT chastises Cooper. He sounds amused. And for a brief moment, I wish that I had finished the job on the Draconis.  
No, that’s just cruel. BT doesn’t deserve something like that.

Cooper clears his throat and lets go of my hand.  
“Right, um... I’ll see you later, yeah?”  
I nod in response. It’s bittersweet, watching him walk away.  
It’s for the best, I tell myself. It’s for the best.


	19. Hiding In The Tall Grass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A series of events that lead to me saying “I’m gonna give Jack The Ripper a bussy” yesterday
> 
> 1) Learning about serial killers in forensics  
2) people doing a PowerPoint on Jack The Ripper  
3) had to do an activity where I had to draw what I think he looked like  
4) wanted to say “I’m gonna give him a bushy mustache”  
5) said bussy instead

Sneaking out of the Militia base is almost laughably easy. Figuring out the guard routes was simple— they never changed. I’ll have to bring it up with Briggs, soon. I’ll wait until the predictability doesn’t benefit me, though.

It’s not like I’m smuggling shit, I just need to grab stuff from my apartment. Fuck, why should I have to sign a 5-page form in order to grab a shirt I forgot about?  
My current target is a little more important. The datacore I have stashed in my closet.  
It’s busted beyond repair, I will freely admit that. It’s crushed and melted and it’s more dirt than metal. Being smashed amongst wreckage didn’t do it any favors.  
Nonetheless, I’ve held onto it.

It’s a symbol, like Viper’s helmet. It’s all I have left of Harpy. I couldn’t bear to get rid of her.  
Even now, leaving her in the closet feels like a betrayal.  
Not much makes me feel guilty, but this does.

I keep her tucked into my jacket on the ride back to the base. To keep her warm or something, I guess.  
It’s the least I can do.

Sneaking out of the Militia compound is one thing, getting back in is an entirely different beast.  
I have to walk my bike down the last stretch of the trip so that I don’t wake up the entire base.  
The things I do for friends.

The hanger is dark and silent as I sneak in. There aren’t any guards here— they figure the titans can handle anything themselves.  
Oh.  
Speak of the devil.  
The bright blue light stops me in my tracks.  
Well, I really should attribute that to the fact that BT has now picked me up off the ground.

I have to bite my tongue to prevent any noises from escaping. He’s holding me like a doll, with one hand wrapped around my torso.  
This is fucking humiliating.

“Curfew is 11 pm,” BT says, and at least he has the decency to keep his voice down. “This is the third time you’ve been out past it.”

“I won’t do it anymore, okay?” I glare at him, clawing at his hand. “I just— I had to grab something important.”  
The head tilt— the stupid fucking head tilt gets to me. He’s not going to let go until I tell him.

“Fine. Fine. You can’t tell anyone though, okay?”  
BT nods, and I have no doubt he’ll keep the secret. Titans can be stubborn when it comes to things like this.

I wiggle in his hand in order to pull the data core out of my jacket. “I, uh, found it. I don’t think it works any more, but...” I trail off.  
BT leans in, examining it closer.

“I see,” He lowers me to the ground. “My point still stands. You should limit these late-night excursions.”

“I read you loud and clear, BT.” I answer.


	20. Did He Who Made The Lamb Make Thee?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An encounter

With Harpy’s datacore safely tucked where no one will fine her, I return to my work.  
Life in the Militia isn’t as monotonous as in the IMC, but the work seems to be largely the same.

I fall into a comfortable routine. I’ve always enjoyed the simplicity of a schedule.

Cecil has sought me out, surprisingly enough. They talk to me when I’m busy with some boring task and they have nothing to do. It’s nice having someone to talk with. Someone who doesn’t make me feel like I’m about to throw up.

The chatting fills the silence, and I’m eternally grateful for that.  
I keep postponing “the talk” with Dr. Hampton. She wants the old link properly removed so that my brain isn’t as much of a garbled mess.  
The thought of losing the link hurts, but I know it’s for the best.

It takes two weeks of constant prodding before I decide to go through with it. I had told Cooper that they had wanted to get another look at my head, to check for any concussions. He had asked if I was sure they weren’t looking for signs of me becoming senile. I nearly punched him in the throat.

“It’s 100% routine,” Dr. Hampton assures me. “Things like this happen. The procedure isn’t dangerous at all.”  
I know that. The number of IMC pilots with broken links numbered in the hundred— a safe way to fix the links was necessary.  
It’s far more dangerous to leave a broken neural link as is. There are a myriad of health issues— both mental and physical— that accompany it.  
I had gotten lucky with the occasional nightmare and a constant buzzing in the back of my head.  
Things could’ve turned out a hell of a lot worse.

“Just relax, okay? This will only take a minute.”  
The procedure itself isn’t painful— a flash of bright light followed by the quiet whir of the machine. What hurts is how empty it leaves me.  
It’s been 20-something years since I’ve had my head to myself.  
It feels like a betrayal. Everything I do feels like a betrayal.

I can hear her asking me questions, but her voice feels far away and muffled. “I’m fine,” Is the only answer I give. “I’m gonna... just go for a walk,”  
She helps me up as I struggle to keep my balance.  
I hesitate to move, waiting until the room has stopped spinning before I take a step.  
Dr. Hampton asks if I’m sure I can do it on my own, and I nod my head in response.  
“M’fine.” I mutter.

It takes nearly five minutes to get to the door, but by the time I’ve reached it the dizziness has worn off.  
I guess I feel a little better.

I wander throughout the base, following no path in particular. Moving helps me think better. I’m not a fan of staying still.  
I stop in front of a door that lead to one of the garages deep within the base. This building used to be some sort of factory or distribution center, I think. I’ve never been this far within it, yet.

I push the door open slowly, waiting for some sort of alarm to go off. But nothing happens.  
The door creaks open and the cold air gives me goosebumps.  
I really should just turn around (But I’ve never been the type to make good decisions.)

I step in, pulling my jacket tighter around myself.  
It doesn’t seem like this room sees heavy use, as there’s a thin layer of dust over anything.  
Along one wall, there are rows of tarps covering... something. I walk over, running my hand along the fabric. I wonder what it’s covering.

In a fit of stupidity, I lift the bottom of the tarp and who could’ve guessed that there’s a titan under here. The unmistakable leg struts of a Tone are peeking out— strong despite the apparent years of neglect.  
I let go, taking a step back.  
Why would the Militia keep a bunch of dusty titans? Why would the Militia let a bunch of titans go unused like this?

I continue down the line, glancing under each of the sheets, until I stumble upon a sleeping Northstar.  
I push the tarp up further, getting a better look at the titan. “MD-2002,” I mutter, reading the serial code printed on the chassis. “Why’re you here..?”

“Hey!” The echoing shout nearly gives me a heart attack. “You’re not supposed to be here!” One of the silent pilots from my first day at the base is standing by the door.

“Oh,” I let go of the tarp. “Sorry, I had no idea.”  
You’d better be careful, Dominic. Curiosity killed the cat.


	21. Don’t Die This Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What could go wrong?

— 3 years ago —

The battle leading up to the Draconian has been quick and brutal. Both the IMC and the Militia had suffered numerous casualties.  
It was stupid to assume those fresh-of-the-assembly-line pilots could defeat the SRS. I’ve always suspected the IMC wouldn’t know how to deal with an issue until it bit them in the ass.

I’m standing on the flight deck of the Draconis, waiting for my cue. The Militia’s got on our tail, and Bandit (It was the IMC’s idea to call him that. I think it sounds stupid) is bound to make an appearance. He had already killed the other Predators— he was clearly a real threat. 

It’s not every day you get to fight an SRS pilot, but the others I had encountered weren’t as impressive as their title suggested. It’s the Vanguards that are truly impressive.  
A titan that isn’t confined to a single loadout. As much as I hate to admit it, the Vanguard is a marvel of engineering.  
The IMC has approached us with a mission to retrieve the schematics. At the time, I had thought it was funny. The bully trying to copy their victim’s homework. What goes around comes around, I guess.

“Pilot,” Harpy speaks up from my side. That one word tells me all I need to know. Bandit’s gotten too close, so it’s my time to thin out the herd— to ensure that Blisk, Slone, and I get our money.  
Because that’s all that really matters, now. Getting paid.  
Without a steady stream of money, Harpy wouldn’t be able to fly the way she does. A grounded Northstar is a dead Northstar.

“Let’s get this over with,” I grunt, climbing up her arm and into the cockpit.  
Neither of us are particularly worried about the fight. I’ve taken out plenty of Militia hotshots.  
“Just another fight, Harpy. It’ll be over before he even knows what happened.”


	22. Be As Wise As Serpents and Harmless As Doves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cause and effect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Viper is so stupid lol

There’s something shady going on.  
God, it sounds stupid to say that. It makes me sound like a detective in some dollar-store detective novel. I should know— I used to have a whole collection of them.  
What can I say, it’s a guilty pleasure.

Right. Back on track. I’m 99% sure there’s some sort of rat within the Militia. Other than me, of course. But I wouldn’t stoop so low as to go crawling back to fucking Marder.  
Always wanted to kick that guy down a few notches. He talked to me like I was stupid.

“But Dominic, how do you know there’s a rat?”  
Good question. Because I’m not an idiot.  
Not when it comes to counting, at least.  
Weapons have been going missing, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it.  
Ugh.  
Talk about a Nancy Drew wannabe.

The IMC isn’t very good at being subtle. They’re more of a, “launch an all-out attack and hope for the best” sort of organization. All the more surprising that they’re managing to pull of a stunt like this.  
I actually have no idea why they’re doing this, though. They’ve got a direct line to weapon manufacturers, why are they stealing from the Militia?  
Probably some strange, indirect attempt at crippling them. It’s kind of funny seeing the IMC so desperate. 

I’m not going to tell Cooper about this little problem— he’d worry about it and blab to Briggs. And then she’d make it some big thing and launch some sort of investigation.  
It won’t hurt to nip this thing in the bud before it becomes a real problem. I’ve always been more of a hands-on type. I’m the only person I can trust to get a job done, even if I’d like to think otherwise.

That’s why I don’t feel bad about taking a Kraber from the armory. Maybe the years of working for the highest bidder has worn away at my sense of guilt. 

I’ve stuck with sniper rifles since my time in the IMC. Call me a coward, but I prefer fighting from a distance. I value my life, thank you very much.

There’s supposed to be a meeting tonight. I know this because I saw the ““encrypted messages.””  
They’re using the same code as three years ago. The sheer stupidity is astounding.  
So now I’m sitting in a tree, an actual goddamn tree, waiting for these clowns to show up.  
The Kramer is resting heavily in my lap. Its weight is comforting.

A rustling in the foliage draws my attention. It seems the time has come.  
A couple of people are carrying a large crate. The lid is askew, and I can see the barrel of a Flatline poking out.  
I raise the scope to my eye, bringing a head into view. I allow my finger to rest lightly on the trigger, waiting for an opportunity to arise.

The first one hits the ground before he even knows what’s happening. The others aren’t as lucky.

——————————

The base is alight with gossip, and talk’s been going around about the previous night’s events.  
Four Militia soldiers found dead alongside a weapons cache.  
I act surprised when Cooper tells me about it.

“You really should’ve seen it,” His arms are crossed and his eyebrows furrowed. “It was so weird. Really no signs of a struggle, just four clean headshots.”

I give him a dirty look before pushing my breakfast away. “Thanks for letting me know,” I say, rolling my eyes at his apologetic expression. “I don’t have the stomach for that sort of stuff. Too sheltered.” I wrinkle my nose at the last word.  
Any aversion to gore had been stomped out of my in the IMC. They couldn’t afford to have pilots fainting on the job.  
That doesn’t mean I like it, though. I’ll never forget the image of some poor bastard being crushed to death by a titan.

“I see,” He hums, staring down at the table. He’s got the look on his face that tells me he wants to talk about something. He always seems hesitant bringing stuff up around me. I don’t know if I should be flattered or insulted.  
“Y’know, they’re saying some strange stuff about this whole situation,” I nod, gesturing for him to continue.  
“I’ve heard that there’s something not quite right about this whole thing. That whoever’s to blame must’ve been involved in setting it up. That they’re...”

“They’re what?” I really shouldn’t be pushing for information, but my curiosity needs to be sated.

“They’re IMC. Or ex-IMC. Someone who would know that this kind of thing is going on.” I nod slowly, looking away. It’s a good guess, and technically true, but it’s far enough away from reality to be safe.

“Any suspects?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Cooper shrugs. “Not that they’d tell me, though. I think Commander Briggs wants to keep this quiet. Or, well, as quiet as it could be, now. It’s going to be a while until talk dies down.”  
I nod, scratching at my cheek idly. That works for me. The more people talk about something, the more distorted the truth gets. It won’t be long until this stranger has killed an entire squadron with their bare hands.

“Hmm. Yeah, you’re probably right. Just have to wait until there’s more information.”  
Have fun waiting.  
It was a one-time thing, Militia. I’m not going to be your exterminator.

He sighs, resting his head in his hand. “I’m just worried, y’know?” He glances over at me, as if to look for confirmation. “This time it was a couple of smugglers. But next time, it might be innocents. Who knows what this person is up to.”

“Yeah,” I agree, refusing to look him in the eye. “Who knows.”


	23. Caught in The Crossfire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Problem solving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So technically this was supposed to be two chapters, but I decided to put them together since they’re so short

It’s been a week and gossip still hasn’t moved on from the four smugglers. I knew people would be talking about it for a while, but I had figured something more interesting would’ve happened by now. Wishful thinking, I guess.

Ridiculous rumors have been passed around, and the number of people guarding the base has all but doubled.  
Maybe I should’ve just let those idiots steal the guns. It would have caused fewer headaches on my side.  
I just had to do the right thing, huh? Cooper’s rubbing off on me. I hate him so much.

I’ve been given a new task to keep busy. There are a few broken-down Jeeps I’m supposed to fix. They’re all in various stages of disrepair, but none of them are lost causes.  
One of them lost an “e” on the logo. Cooper calls that one “The Jep” in order to annoy me. I’m about to start calling him “Coper” or something equally stupid.

“You know,” Cecil is standing by my side, holding up a flashlight so that I can see the engine better. “I heard from Jesse, who heard from Ashley, who heard from Suki, that you’ve got an admirer.” 

“The only person in that lineup that I know is Jesse,” I grunt. “And I don’t know if I should trust a game of telephone like that. Maybe I should find this Suki character and ask who it is.”

A long, drawn-out groan from Cecil. “Where’s the fun in that?” I chuckle at their petulant tone. “You’re single, yeah?” I glare at them in response. “I’m takin’ that as a yes. Don’t you want to find out who it is the old fashioned way?”

“No, I’m fine,” I huff. “I’ve made it this far on my own. I don’t need to rely on word-of-mouth to find a boyfriend. Ugh.”

“Hmm,” They place their free hand where I assume their chin would be. “Maybe I should ask her about that. Guys, huh?”

I glance over at them. “Is that, like, a question?”

“You tell me, Mr. Helpless Romantic.” Their lights flash brightly— the simulacrum version of a smile.

“Shut up,” I wipe the back of my hand against my mouth in order to hide my smile. “Don’t you have something better to do?”

“You’re talking as if bothering you isn’t the highlight of my day.”

“You must live a very sad life.”

“Whatever,” They raises their hand in defeat, placing the flashlight down. “Never say that I can’t tell when I’m not wanted. See ya later, yeah?”  
I hum as I watch them leave.

I wonder who this mysterious admirer is. Some part of me hopes that it’s Cooper, but I know that he wouldn’t go around telling his fellow pilots about his (maybe, relatively possibly real) crush. 

“You’re still here,” A voice from behind caused me to jump. “I thought you would leave.”  
I look back at him, and lo and behold, it’s the file clerk.  
He’s standing stiffly, his fists clenched at his side.

I snort, turning back. “No, not yet.”

“So you *are* leaving?”

“Don’t know. Haven’t been kicked out, yet. Might just wait until the end of the war, you know? I’ve got a pretty good thing going on.” I can hear his indignant sputters, and the noise almost makes me laugh.

“I don’t think so,” He growls, grabbing onto my shoulder and forcing me to look at him. “You—“ A ginger is pressed against my chest. “Are going to admit who you are.”

“Not in a big rush to do that.”

“You should be,” He’s baring his teeth, like some sort of rabid animal. “You’ll be in a hell of a lot of trouble if you’re found out.” His snarl turns to a grin, and I can tell exactly what he’s planning.

————————————

It’s been two days. Two long, agonizing days.  
I need to do something, and I need to do it fast. I’m not going to tell Briggs— I know that for sure.

I need to get that bastard off my back, somehow. Need to scare him off so that he learns his lesson.

The cruel voice in the back of my head suggests having Viper take care of the situation.  
It’s stupid, but I don’t have any other ideas.

I need to find a way to get him alone. Somewhere secluded where he won’t be found if things go south.  
It’s concerning how easily planning a potential murder comes to me. 

A message. A message from some higher-up would send him crawling right to me. But that in itself creates a whole new myriad of issues. I’d need to find my way into the comm system of some Militia bigwig.

Or, you could just ask BT.

Okay, no. I was pushing my luck with the datacore, this’ll just be the final nail in the coffin.

You know he’ll keep the secret. This is the clear answer to your problem.

BT might’ve kept a small white lie about a broken datacore, but this is entirely different.

Bring up Cooper! You know he has a soft spot for Cooper.

So do we, idiot! 

Common ground!

Before I have the chance to think twice, I’m standing in front of the door that leads to the hangar. The door feels so intimidating, now.  
Take the plunge, Dominic. This is something that needs to be done.

I take a deep breath and push the door open.  
BT’s gaze is immediately on me, and I try my best not to squirm.

“Dominic,” He greets cautiously. He can probably tell how anxious I am. It’s not like I’m doing a great job at hiding it.

“BT,” I reply. I adjust the lockbox I’m holding— I had pulled it out of my closet the day before— and walk over. “Uh, how’ve you been? You’re... looking good..?”

“I am functional, if that is what you mean,” He states, watching me carefully. “It is not like you to be so indirect. Are you intending on discussing something important?”  
Shit. Of course he’d see right through me. Never try to fool a Vanguard.

I sigh, setting the lockbox down. “BT, do you trust me?”

The shutters of his optics close slightly— a facsimile of a suspicious glare. “That is a very strange question, Dominic.”

“I know, I know,” I sit down next to the box. “I just want to know if you think I have the Militia’s best interests in mind.”

“You have not done anything to convince me otherwise.”

I nod, glancing down at my feet. “Okay,” I breathe out. “Okay. BT, I’m going to tell you something, and I need you to keep it a secret.”  
He moves closer, every thundering footstep shaking the ground.  
I reach over, and my hands tremble as I unlock the box. Viper’s helmet is crammed alongside the flight suit and gear. BT remains silent as I lift the helmet up.  
“This... this doesn’t change anything, BT. I’m loyal to the Militia. But, I... I don’t want Cooper to know. It’d hurt him. I don’t want to do that to him.” I glance up at him, trying to gauge his reaction. 

We stand there for a minute, nothing but silence between us.  
“You are telling me this for a reason. What is it that you need?”

—————————————

It’s been years since I’ve worn the flight suit, but it still fits. It stills feels right.  
I had scared myself when I looked in the mirror. I looked like a ghost. But to be fair, that’s exactly what I am now. A dead man walking. A decapitated snake that still bites.

BT has agreed to my request after I had explained the situation. He had been silent, apart from an occasional question.  
Apparently, the file clearly had agreed with great enthusiasm. A mistake, on his part. But he doesn’t know that. Not yet. Anyways.  
The lightly wooded are behind the base was the clear choice for the meeting place. Far enough away that it’s unlikely anyone will intrude, but close enough to seem suspicious.

The Wingman in my hand provides some comfort as I wait. It’s always been my preferred sidearm.  
Only one bullet. Hopefully I won’t have to use it.

The sound of footsteps breaks me out of my thoughts. The plan is in motion. I try to assure myself that this is for the best, but the guilt doesn’t go away.

“Mister Cooper? Or—err— Pilot Cooper?” God, what a bootlicker.

“Here,” I call back. The impression sucks, but it does it’s job. I can hear him approaching.  
He starts to say something as he passes by, but gets cut off as his legs are swept from under him and my knee is pressed against his back.

“Shut up and listen,” I hiss, watching intently as he stops squirming. “I don’t take kindly to threats, son. Leave me the fuck alone, okay?”  
The pained cry he makes when I pull his arm back sets my veins on fire. It’s been to long.  
Viper is infinitely more exciting than than Dominic Taylor.

“Yes— shit, yes I’ll forget all about it!” The red light of my visor reflects in his wide eyes. “I won’t bring it up I promise please don’t kill me!” Oh. Right.  
My gaze slides slowly down to his neck. Because killing him would be so easy, now.  
Dominic can harp all he wants, but the bloodlust is too deeply ingrained to be truly gone.

“Watch your back, file clerk,” The name comes out like some sort of slur. It feels dirty, but I’m past the point of caring about that sort of thing. “If you want your head to stay on your—“

“Who’s there?” The voice pulls me out of my trance. Shit. Shit, someone’s coming.

“Remember.” I spit a final warning, twisting his arm back with a satisfying pop. That’ll keep them busy.  
I slip away further into the trees.  
I don’t think that other person saw me.  
I’ll just have to wait to be sure.


	24. Birds of a Feather Burn Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A confession

This is a monumental disaster. I don’t think this could’ve turned out any worse.  
Word’s gotten out that Viper’s alive (or has a lookalike) and the base is essentially on lockdown. No one in, no one out.

That file clerk hasn’t said anything. I made sure of that. Whoever that other person was must’ve seen me. I need to figure out who it is.

The lockbox is tucked safely under my bunk.  
I doubt that I’ll touch it anytime soon. I’m not prepared to confront Viper again.

My blood had run red hot, that night. My body had been shaking as I stripped out of my flight gear, filled to the brim with adrenaline.  
I had taken deep, gasping breaths as I washed the filthy feelings off in the shower. My back pressed against the cold tile, my hands had moved on their own volition. The helmet had been the only witness to the ensuing shame. I’d never felt so alone.

Now, Cooper and I are sitting in the mess hall, eating the nondescript mush that they’ve served us. I think it was meat, at one point.

It’s quieter than usual in here. Everyone’s on edge, waiting for news that, hopefully, will never come. It seems like the paranoia is affecting Cooper, too. He’s staring at his meal and staying silent. It’s worrying.  
He’s terrified, probably. I can imagine his mind is racing after finding out that the person he thought he killed is still alive. I can understand the feeling. I might be the only person in this base who does.  
I bet he never expected to be in a situation like this. But then again, who would?

Now he’s sneaking glances at me. He must want to talk. I can guess what the subject is, BT I’m not sure I want to discuss it. 

“You done?” He asks softly, gesturing to my food. I stare at it, debating whether or not I should try to lie my way out of this, before nodding.  
“It’s kind of crowded here. Want to talk in my room?” Okay, I definitely wasn’t expecting that.

“Yeah,” I agree, despite knowing that it’s probably a bad idea. “Lead the way.”

——————————

Cooper has a room all to himself— a perk of being a pilot. It’s not very big, but the decorations make it feel comfortable instead of cramped.  
There are pictures all over the walls— typical stuff like landscapes and people. 

One in particular catches my attention: Cooper and a woman smiling at the camera, embracing each other.  
“Girlfriend?” I ask warily, pointing at the picture.  
He glances over and scrunches his nose.

“Ew,” He laughs. “That’s my sister.”

“Oh, wow,” I smile, looking back to examine the two of them. “Must be tough, having to compete with the hero of Harmony. She looks just like you, you know.”

“Not like I haven’t heard it a million times,” Cooper rolls his eyes, a good-natured smile lighting up his face. “She’s pretty great, though. I write her letters, sometimes.”

“How old fashioned. She’s kind of cute, though. You’ll have to introduce us sometime.”

“Oh my God, shut up,” His laughter betrays any attempt at looking serious. “I’m not hooking you up with my sister.” He sits on his bed, patting the empty spot to his side in a silent invitation.  
We sit next to each other, simply enjoying the company.  
It’s almost like we’re back at the bar. That carelessness feels so far away, now. Everything’s become so complicated.

“You really thought my sister was cute?” Cooper finally speaks up.

I give him a confused stare before shrugging. “Yeah, she looks nice.”

“And you thought we looked the same?”

“Similar...”

“So you think that I look cute?”

A beat. “You’re putting words in my mouth, Cooper.”

“You’re blushing.”

“No, I’m definitely not.”

“You are,” Cooper grins, and his hands moves so that it’s covering mine. I have to force myself to maintain eye contact.  
Now we’re just staring at each other and holding hands. How cute.

“Mm.” Is all I manage to say.  
He’s moving closer, now. Invading my personal space with such care that it feels like he’s done it before. It feels like he knows what he’s doing.

We’re nearly nose-to-nose before he starts talking.  
“Please let me know I’m not totally misinterpreting the situation,” I pause, before shaking my sheas in response.  
A light, nervous chuckle from Cooper, and his free hand moves to cradle the side of my face.  
I nearly cry at the sweet gesture. It’s too much for someone like me. I don’t deserve it.

I don’t deserve it, but I’m selfish. That’s why I don’t push him away when his lips press against mine. It’s so gentle, so unlike any kiss I’ve had before. It’s lacking the aggression I’ve become so used to. The soft whimper I make sounds alarmingly like crying.

The kiss is over far too soon. “Oh, hey...” Now both of his hands are on my face, caressing and pulling my walls down with soft touches. “Are you okay? You’re crying...” Am I? 

“Yeah,” I breathe out shakily. “I’m fine.” The words taste dirty as they slip past my lips. It feels like I’m lying to him. But, to be fair, that’s exactly what I’m doing. 

An unsure look, followed by a small smile. “You can tell me stuff, you know.”

“Mhm.” I nod, covering his hands with my own. “I know.”

—————————

It becomes something of a daily ritual.  
If both Cooper and I are free, we’ll go to his room to chat and indulge in chaste kisses. Neither of us have put a name to what kind of relationship this is, but it doesn’t bother me that much.  
I like him, and he likes me. That’s all that’s really important, right now.

So that’s why I’m currently in his room, on his bed, a deck of cards in hand, teaching him how to play poker. He’s surprisingly good at it, too. I’ve already lost five dollars to him.  
I don’t think Cooper’d play with anyone other than me, though. When he won, he tried to give me my money back. He felt bad about it, but I had just laughed him off.

I’m in the middle of shuffling the deck when he starts talking.  
“Do you believe all that stuff they’re saying?” At my silence, he elaborates. “About Viper still being alive?”

Oh.  
I hum noncommittally as I think. It’d probably be best to just brush him off and change the subject, but he can be stubborn when it comes to things like this. 

“Well, what do you think?” I glance up from the deck. “You’re the one who killed him. Supposedly, I guess I should say. Think you finished the job?” Cooper seems to think that over, his eyebrows furrowed and his gaze fixed on his hands. 

“I mean... In the moment, I was sure. He did this whole—” He lifts his arms and falls onto his back. “Death thing. And I don’t know how he would’ve survived that fall.”  
I’m not sure how I survived, either. I wasn’t exactly awake when it happened.

“Well, there’s your answer.”

“You would think,” He sighs dramatically, before sitting back up. “But it just doesn’t feel right, y’know? And it doesn’t explain the pilot they saw in the woods. Viper’s helmet is really recognizable, I don’t think it could be a coincidence.”

“They do make replicas.” I regret reminding him the moment the words leave my mouth.  
Are you trying to paint a bigger target on yourself, Dominic?

“Oh, I actually never thought of that,” Great. And you just put that thought into his head. “Do you still have yours? Just so we could, like, look at it?”

Uh oh. Time to panic. “No...” I draw the word out, as if that’ll make it true. “I got rid of it because it, uh... upset you.” Okay, good. That sounds like something that could realistically happen.

“Really,” He looks at me strangely, as if he’s trying to figure out if he should believe me. “That’s, uh... that’s nice of you.”

He thinks that’s weird, Dominic. He thinks you’re weird too, Dominic.

“They’re probably still selling them, though,” I say quickly. “You could probably find another just like it.”

“Mm. Yeah, probably.”

————————————

Despite the overwhelming stress the situation causes, the whole thing brings a strange sense of pride.  
Viper’s back in the limelight— for now, at least. 

I’ve always been somewhat vain, but what pilot isn’t? I used to spend hours making sure Harpy’s chassis was clean and looked good.

Right. Back to the point.  
The talk of my reappearance is still in full force— it’s not like this is something that happens often.  
The angry whispers boost my ego.  
The fearful ones twice as much.  
The line between Dominic and Viper is blurring. It’s becoming harder to tell where I end and he begins.

Ugh.  
I really shouldn’t be talking like this.  
After all, Viper and I are the same person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aah! Finally!!


	25. Witch Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A premonition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I 100% did not mean to publish this chapter early but I can’t figure out how to get rid of it so whatever

Out of the frying pan, and into the fire.  
I’m such an idiot. I should’ve just beat up that stupid file clerk and told him to leave me alone.  
But no, I just had to drag Viper into this.

And now the heat is rising.  
Briggs is on the hunt, and I’m not going to be able to last much longer with the number of people she has on the case.

Time’s running out, Dominic. Tic Toc.

I know that. They’re getting closer every day.

Nothing’s keeping you here. You could always just pack up and leave.

We both know that’s not true. It’d put a target on my back immediately. Cooper would be devastated, too.

You really think he won’t be upset when he inevitably finds out who you are?

I really hate talking to you.

Love you too.

I literally think I’m going insane. I just had an entire conversation with my stupid “alter ego.”  
Maybe it’d be best if I just disappeared off the face of the planet.  
Ugh. No. I should cut these thoughts off before they become problematic. I haven’t come this far just to off myself in some dirty Angel City alley.

Maybe I should just come clean to Briggs. What’s the worst that could happen?  
Death. The answer to that question is death. Or, more likely, torture followed shortly by my death. I’m in possession of valuable information, after all.  
It’s not likely they’ll show me mercy after what I’ve done.  
I don’t blame them for that, though.  
I kind of forced their hand by destroying a large portion of their Air Force. Oops. My bad.

There’s also the possibility that they’ll put me on trial. Now that’d be fun. I wonder if Cooper’d get to watch. Maybe he’d be a witness, too. A character witness, or something.  
I wonder if he’d bring up the murder attempt or the kissing first.

Despite the fact that this is all just a made-up situation, I can’t help but feel angry at him.  
Maybe I should cut this... thing we have going on off. It’d be better for him in the long run.  
It’s just damage control, at thins point.

I’m too close to Cooper— he’s let me in too deep. I feel like some sort of parasite. Taking and taking but never giving anything in return.  
It’s not like I could share these feelings with him, though. Ignoring the obvious fact that I’d rather die than talk about my emotions, he’d probably just respond with some bullshit excuse about how I make him happy.  
Yeah, right.

Like that’s going to cut it when he finds out he’s been swapping spit with a goddamn war criminal.

It’d be for the best if we split up.  
Cooper would be sad at first, but soon he would realize that he had dodged a bullet. People like us don’t belong together.

——————————————

The moment I step into the hallway, I am hit with the distinct feeling that something is wrong.  
There are no flashing lights or blaring alarms, but I just know that something has happened.  
Call it a premonition, if you believe in that sort of thing.

I find Cooper in the same hangar as always pulling his flight gear on. He looks like he’s getting ready for a fight.

“What’s going on?” I can’t help but ask.  
He sighs heavily, closing his eyes.

“Blisk.” And that one word tells me all I need to know.


	26. In Looking For The Snake, We Missed The Scorpion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Last Stand

The base is empty again, now.  
The IMC have launched a Hail Mary of sorts— a last-ditch effort to take out whatever Militia forces they can.  
Neither are going down without a fight. I know that much.

You could always help prevent any unneeded deaths.

Yeah, and get myself killed in the process.

Dying a hero’s death means nothing to you?

I roll my eyes and nudge the lockbox at my feet.  
That might actually work out. Viper will tragically perish after saving the lives of Militia soldiers. I won’t have to see the consequences of my actions.  
Because that’s always been my greatest downfall.  
Responsibility.

But how do I get to the battlefield in the first place?

My thoughts return to the Northstar in the garage. It had certainly looked like it was in working order. A few small repairs and it would be good to go.

I lift the lockbox off the ground (I don’t know why, but it feels lighter every time) and head towards the old room.  
I’ve got work to do, now.

—————————————————

Working on a titan in my flight gear doesn’t feel as risky as it should.  
It’s almost comfortable— after all, this is something I’ve done countless times.

The repairs themselves don’t take very long, and before I know it, the Northstar is booting up.

I rock on the balls of my feet as I wait.  
I’m going to have to establish a new link— and the thought alone makes my stomach twist.  
I’m going to have to let Harpy go sooner or later. This is as good a start as any.

“MD-2002, ready to establish link.” The light voice breaks me out of my thoughts. The Northstar is staring at me expectantly, its blue optic flashing brightly.

I nod, pulling in a shaky breath.  
“Pilot Taylor, ready time establish neural link.” I think I’m trying to convince myself, more than anything.  
I pull my helmet on as it crouches down.  
Time to get this over with.

————————————————

Fortunately for me, the attack had been on-planet. The IMC has attacked a sister base not too far from the one I’ve been at. How convenient for me.

Piloting MD is like riding a bike.  
It comes naturally after 20-odd years with Northstars. Despite the familiarity, the thrill it brings me is indescribable.  
Maybe it’s the risk. Because if anyone sees me, I’m as good as dead.

I follow the radio chatter through the plains outside of Angel City, but it’s the plumes of smoke that give away the location more than anything.  
It’s almost funny, hearing the panicked IMC pilots over the radio. It’s less amusing hearing the Militia pilots. It seems like the battle is in full tilt, now.

As I draw closer, I begin to see more and more titans.  
It seems like the Apex Predators are here. Great, looks like Blisk has found more lackeys.

I keep my distance, looking for opportunities.  
Picking off some of the weaker Titans is easy— almost too easy. Almost as if they’re just here as a distraction.

“The intel!” A shrill voice cries over the Milita comm system. “They’ve stolen the intel!” Oh, that makes sense. Information is important in a war like this.

I spot a Robin hauling ass through the battlefield— that’s odd, they usually never miss the opportunity to fight.  
Oh wait.  
That’s probably the pilot with the intel. Get in, get out. Very Ronin-like.

I dash forward, not getting too close but still keeping them in my sights. If they want to play tag, that’s fine by me. But I’m not going to make it easy for them.  
A Northstar isn’t quite as fast as a Ronin, but I’m able to keep up with them as they flee. 

Now we’re far enough away that I don’t hesitate to take a few shots at them.  
A well-aimed shot to the leg, and the Robin crumples. Just like a racehorse, it’d probably be for the best to put the titan out of its misery.  
A fully-charged shot does that well enough.

The cockpit hatch opens as I draw closer, and an IMC pilot clambers out. They’ve got something clutched to their chest— the intel.  
A pregnant pause as we both stare at each other.

I can’t shoot them— I could end up destroying the intel. I can tell that they know this.  
For now, we’ve arrived at an impasse.

“Stand down,” I say quietly, once my helmet has found their frequency. “It’ll make it a hell of a lot easier for both of us.”

They step back, their legs shaking. “No. No, they’ll kill me if I don’t bring it to them.”

Shit. They sound young. “Son, I’m going to kill you if you don’t bring it to me.”

“You’re bluffing.” I knock my head against the back of the cockpit with a long sigh. How does the IMC find all these stubborn bastards?  
As I push MD closer, the understanding that I’m being serious must set in, and they’re frozen in place when I step out of the cockpit.

“Thanks,” I huff as I pry what looks like a datacore out of their hands. I can hear them stuttering as I walk back to MD— I expected that kind of reaction. What I didn’t expect is the blinding pain that rips through my midsection.  
“MotherFUCKER!” That little shit shot me!

MD’s railgun goes off before I’ve even turned around. It’s a shame. It really is.  
I press my hand against my middle, and when I pull it away my glove is stained red.

“Pilot Taylor, are you alright?”

“Fuck. Yeah, m’fine,” I climb into the cockpit, keeping a hand pressed against my stomach. “Hit, but still in the fight. C’mon. We have to get back to the base.”

————————————————

Never thought I’d be fighting my way through IMC soldiers in an attempt to help the Militia, and yet here I am.  
I’ve passed by a couple SRS Vanguards, but none of them pay any attention to me (likely due to MD’s Militia warpaint.)  
I keep hoping to spot Cooper or BT, but neither are anywhere in sight.

Each of the stock IMC titans fall quickly. It’s for the best— drawn-out fights are painful.  
The radio chatter from both sides is getting louder.  
The IMC, because they’re losing numbers fast.  
The Militia, because they still haven’t recovered their precious data.

I’d speak up if Cooper wasn’t on the radio.  
I’ve heard him cut in a few times, relaying info. I hate to admit it, but hearing his voice makes me feel better. At least I know he’s still alive.

I feel better, until I hear him say “Blisk.”  
My blood seems to run cold at that. I knew Kuben would be here, but some part of me had hoped he would just... I don’t know... disappear?

I can hear the sounds of battle in the distance— the roar of a Predator cannon and the deep “thunk” of a Thermite Launcher. 

This is quite possibly the worst possible outcome. How is Cooper supposed to best Kuben? I know that I’m severely doubting his abilities, but I’m still terrified. The stress is causing my heart to beat heavily in my chest, and I can feel the wound throbbing painfully.  
I’m starting to panic, and the blood loss certainly isn’t helping.

I push MD towards the fight, praying that Cooper is still alive.  
I’m nearly there, when the battle falls silent.  
I stop in my tracks, my ears training to hear something— anything that would let me know Cooper survived.

I inch closer when I still don’t hear anything.

Please tell me Cooper is alive.  
Please tell me Blisk is dead.  
Please tell me everything is going to work out.

And when I turn a corner and see Cooper and BT standing over the smoldering corpse of Blisk’s legion, I allow myself to cry.

“Kuben Blisk is KIA,” Cooper breathes out.  
Odd. I didn’t realize he had tuned into my helmet’s channel. “I’m gonna need some help, here. He didn’t have the intel on him.”

“I have it, Jack,” I can’t help but say. His head jerks up, and I can tell I caught him by surprise.  
The world is becoming blurry, and my fingers feel cold, but just seeing him is enough to make me feel better. “Picked it up, an...” I trail off.

My eyelids feel heavy, now.  
How much blood have I lost?

“Pilot Taylor requires immediate medical attention.” Is the last thing I hear as I slowly drift asleep.

-  
-  
-  
-  
-  
-  
-

I’m being lifted up, dragged, placed.  
Snippets of conversations reach my ears.  
None of them sound good.

I think I can hear Cooper, once or twice. He’s asking to come along— someone won’t let him.

My helmet is pulled off, and the bright light hurts my eyes.  
“You’re okay,” A soft voice consoles me. “You’re doing great.”  
I don’t think that’s true.

The pain in my stomach is gone— but I know they haven’t given me any painkillers.  
Someone’s hands are on me. Feeling my midsection. Poking and prodding.

I think I’m in some sort of E.R., good thing the IMC attacked a Militia base. 

“... critical condition...” That doesn’t sound good.

“... internal bleeding...” Thats even worse.  
I wonder if this is hell.  
Stuck between two worlds, yet unable to access either.  
I wonder what Jack is thinking.  
Maybe he’ll sneak in and break my neck.  
Is he the vengeful type?

My eyes close, and the world falls silent yet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy thanksgiving!
> 
> This chapter is pretty cliche but what fanfic isn’t?


	27. As We Forgive Those Who Trespass Against Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The End

The smell of disinfectant nearly burns my nose.  
I’m almost surprised that I can smell it— I half expected to not wake up at all.  
Oh. Right. I wasn’t expecting this to happen. I didn’t plan ahead for something like this.

Do I play dumb?  
No, that won’t work. They pulled me out of MD, so it’s obvious who I am.  
Do I try to make a run for it?  
The stinging pain in my side ends that thought quickly.

A curt cough draws my attention. Sarah Briggs herself is sitting next to my cot, a book in her hand and a carefully neutral look on her face.  
“Good, you’re awake,” No need to state the obvious. “You gave the medics quite a scare, they thought you were going to die.”

“Would’ve been easier if I had, huh?” I reply, my voice quiet.

“Maybe,” She shrugs. She seems so calm and collected, as if she’s not sitting across from a war criminal.  
“But that’s not how the Militia works. Though, I’m sure you know that by now.”

Yeah, she’s got a point.  
But that doesn’t change what I did.

“Are you waiting until I’m better to put me on trial?” I can’t help but ask. It would make sense— they wouldn’t want me passing out in the middle of a court room.

“You’re not going on trial.”

“I— what?”

“You didn’t break any laws,” She clarifies, leaning back in her chair. “A few rules, sure, but no laws. So you’re going to be released back to your duties once you heal.”

I stare at her for a moment, trying to figure out if she’s joking or not. “Am I missing something?”

An amused smile graces her face. “You’re not the one with a bounty on your head, Dominic. Plus, Viper’s already dead— it’s not like we could claim the money again,” Is this some sort of reward for getting the intel back? It must be— why else would she be this welcoming? “But, moving on, there’s something I want to discuss with you.”

“What is it?” I ask warily, igniting the pain in favor of sitting up.

“We’re short on pilots. Those with your level of experience, that is,” Briggs sets her book on the floor. “Seeing as you’ve already linked with one of our titans,” A stern look in my direction, followed by an expression that almost looks hopeful. “It would be my pleasure to offer you a spot as a pilot.”

I can’t help the laugh that escapes my mouth. “What— me? Have you forgotten what I did, or are you just ignoring it?”  
Briggs raises an eyebrow, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

“Believe me, I haven’t forgotten. But Dominic,” She stands, moving closer in order to place a hand in my shoulder. “People change. You of all people should know that. I’m not offering you a job out of pity, I’m offering it as a second chance. Fight for the good guys. Make a difference.”

I pause, letting her words sink in. A second chance, do I really deserve it?

No one’s forcing you, Dominic. But this sounds like a better option than spending the rest of your life as some Angel City nobody.

“I guess I don’t have a choice, huh?”

“Of course you do. Everybody does.”

———————————————

It’s a week before the medics allow visitors.  
Cecil is the first to show up— babbling and fake-crying.  
They pull me into a tight hug, and are immediately yelled at. 

“Oh my God, we all thought you died!” They sob. “But it was so cool— you should’ve seen everybody’s faces when word got out that you’re VIPER! Oh my God, dude, why didn’t you tell me?! I would’ve kept it a secret! And now you’ve got a titan and it’s so cool that—“

“Cecil!” I laugh, interrupting their rant. “It’s good to see you, too.” And at least they have the decency to look embarrassed.

“Oh, right, my bad. Oh! I’ve been meaning to tell you something!” They clap their hands together excitedly. “I talked to Suki the other day, right? And she told me who your secret admirer is!” 

“Yeah?” I tilt my head, smiling in amusement.

“It’s Jack— Fucking— Cooper!” Their lights flash brightly. “I know, it’s crazy! And— oh,” The lights dim. “I don’t know if he still feels that way, now, though. Y’know. Since you tried to kill him back then.” 

My smile fades, and I stare down at my hands. “Yeah. I know,” I sigh.   
Come to think of it, I haven’t seen him at all since the battle. “Do you know where he is?” 

“On some mission, I think,” Cecil answers. “Off-planet. But to be honest? I think Briggs gave it to him just to get him out of the base. He kept asking about you, but they wouldn’t let him in. I think he was goin’ crazy, to be honest.”   
Really? That makes me feel a little better. 

Maybe he just wanted to talk. Or maybe he was waiting for the chance to finish the job. Neither option is particularly appealing. 

“Did he... say anything?” 

“That’s the thing,” They lower their voice, like we’re discussing something that’s top secret. “He was real quiet. Don’t think I saw him talking to anybody other than BT. Everybody was worried about him. I think getting some fresh air will be good for him.” 

“Mhm,” I nod. “It’s for the best.” 

——————————————————

“I figured you would want this back,” Briggs walks towards my cot, holding my helmet under her arm. “Can’t say the same about your gear, though. We’re still getting the blood stains out.”   
She places the helmet in my hands, and I stare down at it intently. It doesn’t feel evil, now that it’s been used for good. 

“Thanks,” I mutter, running my thumb along the visor. It doesn’t really look the part of a Militia pilot. “The red doesn’t fit now, huh?” I glance at her briefly. 

“We can fix it,” She smiles. “I think blue would look great on it.” 

“Yeah,” I agree absentmindedly. “Yeah, I think it would.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has read this! It’s been an awesome learning experience :)
> 
> I have a epilogue that I’ll post if people want it, but I’m not about to abandon these two anytime soon ;)


	28. Epilogue

I always thought Harmony was beautiful. I wouldn’t admit it under torture, but the landscape nearly takes my breath away.  
The bright sun on my face negates the cool chill in the air. October has always been my favorite month.

“Hey,” The soft voice draws my attention. Jack sits on the ground next to me, two beers in his hands. “You kinda disappeared, you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I answer truthfully, for the first time in forever. I’m great, even. Meeting his family had been wonderful. He and his sister had looked even more alike in person. The nieces and nephews were cute, too.  
“Just got kinda loud. Had to take a break.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” He smiles and hands me a drink. “They really like you, though. I think my mom’s adopted you already.”

“Really?” I chuckle, scooting closer so that our sides are pressed together. “She seemed to know, like, everything about me. Did you debrief her before I visited?”

“Oh, god. More like she tortured me to find out about you,” He smiles brightly. “She needed to know _ everything. _ I think at one point she wanted me to take a picture and send it to her. I told her that we weren’t dating and that would freak you out.”

“If she wanted a picture she could’ve just asked me,” I shrug with fake carelessness. “I would’ve autographed it, too.”

“Oh, please. You were nervous about just talking to her. You nearly threw up!”

“No, I didn’t.” I answer defensively, even though we both know it’s true.  
He just laughs at that, like he laughs at a lot of things. I feel that I can finally admit, after all this time, what the warm feeling I get in my stomach when I hear him laugh is. Love. As cheesy as it sounds, I’ve finally come to terms with the fact that I love Jack Cooper.

”Right, right. But you did well, y’know?” He places a hand on my back, smoothing out the wrinkles in my shirt. “I hate to say it, but I half expected you to, like... drop kick one of my nephews.” 

I scoff, glaring at him without any real malice. “‘Drop kick a nephew?’ Who do you think I am?” 

“I think you’re the Pilot that body-slammed a MRVN on a dare. A five dollar bet, too.” 

I grumble under my breath because I really don’t have an argument against that. I can’t play dumb because I showed him the money afterwards, and I can’t even act like he wasn’t there to see it. “Whatever. I’m not going to sit out here and argue with you about the person I was. I’ve grown since then, you know.” 

“Whatever you say, Dominic,” He chuckles, standing up and holding a hand out to me. “And that was like, two weeks ago. Don’t try and act like you’re an entirely new person.” 

I grab onto his hand, allowing him to pull me up. “Well, who knows. People change, Jack.” He rolls his eyes, but doesn’t argue. With a reassuring squeeze of my hand, we turn and walk back to the Cooper family home. 

I don’t really believe in hell, but I think that this is the closest I’ll ever come to heaven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to everyone who has read, commented, or left kudos! This was my first multi-chapter but of writing and I’m glad people like it!  
Thank you so much for reading!


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